His and Her Bruises
by lezonne
Summary: "I congratulate your ability to leave a mark on me, Granger. Although I must make a point of it that my bruises on you are far larger than yours on me. When competing, you should always aim to win, yes?" Fractured timeline from fourth year up; will eventually look into their lives after school. Violent references. Sequel "His and Her Scars" is now up!
1. Retrospect: Hips

**A/n: **As of November 14, 2012, this story has obtained a beta. Thanks to my beta** loveinthemadness**!

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Minerva McGonagall grinned at the set before her; Slytherins and Gryffindors from fourth year and up. This class could be exceptionally interesting, or terribly difficult to handle. The Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws had taken up residence further down the hall, instructed by Severus Snape (unfortunately for them) leaving the opposing houses to work on this side of the room.

She looked around the space. Most couples were dancing haphazardly to the music, either too slow or fast, and half of the hall's occupants seemed to still have no idea what the steps were, despite her precise description of the steps, and demonstration with Mr. Weasley. Shaking her head Minerva looked down. However would the Hogwart's students attend this Yule Ball without proper knowledge of how to even dance?

She looked over at Ron Weasley. He was dancing with Hermione Granger, repeatedly stepping on her toes. She kept pushing the red-haired boy away, saying something after her loud, "Ronald!" She smiled lightly. Oh, young love. It had not been a far-fetched guess to assume those two would quickly partner together for this assignment, although Hermione seemed to be rethinking her choice each time the ginger stepped on her toes again.

Adverting her eyes, she sought out an entirely different pair. Pansy Parkinson and Draco Malfoy were dancing rather elegantly on the other side of the room. Well, it would've been elegant, had his hands not been so far south and their bodies a few more inches apart. On closer inspection she even realized the girl seemed to be biting his neck.

_The nerve of those two. _The transfiguration teacher ignored all other movement just then and made her way over to the Slytherin couple, enveloped in their small corner, out of everyone's mind but the few idle couples around them, who had been paying more attention to the close couple then their own dance steps; it wasn't surprising, considering how daring the two teens were being in _public_.

"Back to work!" she snapped at them, before turning to Malfoy and Parkinson, who had yet to disentangle themselves. She cleared her throat, and the arrogant boy glanced up at her, not doing anything about his hands. _This student, my words! If I were only Snape, I would really lay him out and make him think about his actions! I will have to consult him later. _"What exactly do you two think you are doing?"

"Dancing," Draco replied, finally stopping. No one was paying the three any attention just then, too caught up in some crazy scene elsewhere. His hands remained too low on the girl and Minerva shook her head. What trouble was that boy going to get into later on? Pansy herself wasn't even properly facing the teacher, and instead was angled towards the blond, her fingers playing with the collar of his shirt.

"Well, kindly remove your hands from Miss Parkinson's body, and place them correctly on her hips." She crossed her arms, waiting for the two to follow directions.

The blonde rolled his eyes and continued dancing, the girl seemingly ignoring Minerva as well. She could feel irritation building, and quickly shot the two apart with a quick spell. This was _not _how the students would be training for the Ball!

"Since the two of you seem unable to follow directions," McGonagall said, eyeing each Slytherin closely, "You leave me no choice; I will be assigning you both new dance partners."

Parkinson looked horrified at the idea of losing her sexy partner, but the blonde only smirked. Clearly, he was interested in having someone new to play with. _Well, that certainly won't be happening; I have just the partner for you then, Draco._

She raised her voice a bit as she turned to address her side of the Great Hall; "Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger, kindly come here." She spotted the duo in the midst of another argument, Hermione now rubbing her cheek. The teacher rolled her eyes to the ceiling, supposing the boy's uncoordinated steps had probably caused him to elbow his partner. Merlin knew how long it would take to teach him how to hold his partner without causing damage. At the mention of their names, Hermione quickly spun away, the ginger following in tow; his cheeks were bright red. As the two students broke boundaries and crossed over to the Slytherin section of the room, the group fell silent, watching in wonder. They made their way over to Minerva, Ron's cheeks slowly losing the heated color.

"Yes, Professor?" Hermione said, standing politely in front of her. Her proper posture and straight legs contrasted to Draco, who was leaning to one side, arms crossed over his chest by this point. They appeared as polar opposites.

"Yes, Miss Granger," Minerva replied, nodding her head once, "I have called you over to inform you that you are now going to be learning with Mr. Malfoy for the duration of this lesson."

"What?!" came the reply, and it was from more than just the four students who were being switched around. The hall, that had moments before fallen into silence was now in an uproar, with the four victims in the center, staring at one another in disgust.

Above all the noise, they could hear the teacher speaking, "… with your current dance partners, so I am reassigning you. You can opt out and not dance, but this will be brought to the Head Master's attention and could result in your expulsion of the dance for misconduct- no matter how small. This is a direct order, and as students you should follow it as such."

While the occupants of the Great Hall battled over why this idea was so terrifying, the four students listened to Minerva intently. When she finished, Hermione's cheeks were paler. She resented the idea of dancing with Draco Malfoy above all else, but she had a date for the Ball, and to be denied access to the event now would ruin her good mood. She really didn't know what the other three were planning to do for the event, or if they were attending at all, but for once she wanted to attend something showy and different, and she had no intention of losing that privilege.

Boldly, she took a few steps forward and stopped in front of the blonde. Half of the hall was watching them again, but he was looking down with a hideous sneer painted upon his features.

"Don't even think about it, Mudblood."

She only smirked, mirroring the expression many expected him to be wearing, and grabbed both his hands quickly, forcing them into the proper places on her body. Her smirk widened at the horror stricken look that took over his face. "Is that the only insult you have for me?" she mocked, raising a delicate eyebrow in wonder. He was still stunned, frozen with his hands on her, unsure what was the best motive to tear them away. "I always assumed you could come up with something better than that."

When he didn't respond, McGonagall cleared her throat, overjoyed at Hermione's willingness to partake in the change. Now if only Pansy and Ron would be as willing. "Wonderful," she said, attempting to lighten the now eerie mood in the Great Hall. Turning from the duo, she looked at the stricken faces of the others within view. "Well don't just stand there- Continue!"

The music began again, and after a great deal of shuffling the majority of students were dancing again, save Weasley and Parkinson, who currently had their back to each other. Minerva could only shake her head at the two.

Draco and Hermione's dancing, no matter how elegant it appeared, was board line painful. He was gripping her too tightly, just to annoy her for putting him on the spot like she had, and in return she was digging her nails into his shoulders. They were both cringing.

"You dance like a rock," she commented after some time, blowing curly hair from her forehead. "If you bent your knees this wouldn't be so awkward."

"It's awkward to begin with Mudblood," he countered, rolling his eyes. She huffed, and they continued dancing in silence again.

"You don't step on my feet," she commented.

"Of course not Granger; I was born with poise that you can never match."

_Git. _

They carried on.

"Stop digging your nails into me."

"Stop holding me so tight then; you're going to bruise me."

He huffed. "As if that is the worst I could do to you."

The girl looked up at him then for the first time since they had started dancing. The usual sneer was there, and although his threat was dark she expected that his mild heart could never follow through. She didn't believe the words slipping from his mouth for a moment. He wouldn't harm her that badly- despite her blood- for even just last year when she had punched him, he did not jump up and attempt to harm her in return. She didn't think she had ever seen him hurt a girl, truthfully.

"Perhaps it's not, but would you actually follow through with anything worse?"

His grip tightened, and she grit her teeth together. He really did intend to make this the most difficult dance of her life, didn't he? "Shut up Mudblood; I have no intentions of further conversing with you."

She applied more pressure to his hand, but did not offer another response. Flipping her head to look away, she spotted Ron and Pansy sulking together on the edge of the floor, hardly dancing. They might hate each other, but neither was inflicting pain on the other like she and Draco were. She huffed. Typical; she got the worst bloody partner.

"And dip your partner," Minerva cried out. Hermione groaned quietly, wondering if this dip in the dance would result in her 'accidently' breaking her head due to the boy holding her. Then again, his bruising grip didn't exactly read _"I'm going to let go easily"._

Draco didn't look at her when he dipped her during their dance, and had to fight off the urge to drop her onto the unforgiving earth. Dropping her could mean expulsion from the Ball, and that couldn't happen. Where else was he going to pick up easy women for a quickie? Pansy was only tolerable for so long, after all.

When he pulled her up, she spoke, "I expected you to break my head there."

He scoffed, forcing her body closer when Minerva gave them a look. He didn't want her touching him, but he wasn't about to lose the opportunity for something like this. It would be the first Ball they had ever attended as students to this school, and he was anticipating it in his own, hidden ways. "I thought about it heavily Granger."

Hermione looked away. He was as stubborn as ever, wasn't he? But a small part of her had to chuckle. He might be bruising her, but as he had so thoughtfully pointed out, that wasn't the worst thing he could do to her. Maybe the prick had a bit of melted ice in his soul; a single place that could actually consider another human being without it scolding him.

It was just a thought of course.

The dance ended, and neither student bowed graciously to the other like they should've. They were simply relieved to be away from the other's hands. She rubbed her hip sorely, pulling the shirt up to check the skin as she walked back to grab her schoolbag. Purple bruises were forming on her hips. How lovely.

Harry was smirking at the two when they arrived at his side, Hermione's shirt tucked neatly back into her skirt. "You two look like you had fun," he mocked, failing to conceal his entertainment. It didn't matter that it came at his friends' expense, the whole of Gryffindor and Slytherin had been laughing at their classmates' misfortune. He patted each on the back. "Don't worry too much about it; you're likely to never have to dance with them again."

_I won't need to if I have bruises that large. _She bit her tongue as they left the Great Hall, her irritation still obvious. When she didn't smile along with Harry and Ron as the raven-haired boy cracked a joke about what happened, they stopped trying to engage her in the conversation.

She could only hope that the git had hated it more than she did.

* * *

Classes the following Monday started off with a bang. Pansy was screaming at McGonagall during class for making her dance with 'that oaf' and the entire class was snickering behind her. When the woman removed Parkinson to the hallway, everyone in the class broke into conversation; that was quite a sight.

Hermione was not oblivious to the looks she was getting from the other side of the room. Malfoy had been glaring at her since entering, and more than one of his Slytherin classmates had been looking her way. Circe, he must've started some ridiculous rumor.

Her answer came a few minutes later in the form of a note. It floated onto her desk, and no one else paid it any mind since the professor had returned and sent them straight to bookwork. Raising an eyebrow, she opened the piece of paper.

_I congratulate your ability to leave a mark on me, Granger. Although I must make a point of it that my bruises on you are far larger than yours on me. When competing, you should always aim to win, yes?_

Her eyes shot up and sought out the blonde, catching sight of him immediately. He was watching her with a guarded sneer, waving his hand around carelessly. In the light she could see tiny, crescent shaped bruises from her nails the previous day. Rolling her eyes, she regarded him with a single answer.

_Malfoy, I should scold you for your stupidity. Do you honestly think that is the best I can do? Do remember, I am the one that knocked you flat on the ground last year. Perhaps you should rethink your statement. _

Draco raised his eyebrows at her response, and was about to reply to her note when it began to shrivel up. Dropping it entirely, he watched it disappear. Annoyed, he snapped his head up to look at her, only to find that she wasn't even watching him for a response.

_Stuck up know-it-all. That girl is insufferable; I bet that she couldn't take me anymore. Last time was just a stroke of luck on her part._

With that in mind, he turned back to his work, but instead of starting it again, his eyes fell on his hand. The small bruises were noticeable at best, but hardly hurt. The same shapes marred his shoulder blade. They had hurt at first, but had quickly faded.

He wondered what kind of marks he had left on her.

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**A/n: **I have no idea what this is. Is it good? Does it have a plot? Will it be continued? I have no idea! I found it on my flash drive from some time ago and decided to make something out of it; I'm pretty sure my original idea ended differently, but oh well. If anyone likes this, I might update it. Otherwise lovelies it will remain this strange, strange one-shot.

And in case you didn't catch it, this takes place in their fourth year.


	2. Retrospect: Eye

**A/n:** Thanks to everyone who found, reviewed, favorited and added this story! It made my day :D Now like I said I'm not sure where this is going; it might remain entirely in fourth year, or become glimpses of their lives and "bruises" throughout the last few years of school and what happens to them after the war and what has become of them. I'm not sure which way it will go yet; any opinions? For now though at least this chapter and maybe the next will take place in fourth year; we'll see. Thanks to my beta **loveinthemadness**!

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**Warnings: **Changes will have to be made to each book for this to work correctly. If something does not follow the book don't tell me in a review, I already know. This is the only warning regarding that.

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You can check me out on facebook as well; look on my profile. Now on with the story :)

The Yule Ball was turning out to be a blast. Hermione could not recall the last time she had so much fun. So what if Ron and Harry were moping around? It was not her fault that they waited until the last minute to find dates! As for her, she was simply enjoying her night with Viktor on her arm, twirling her all around the floor.

The bruises on her hips had all but healed. That prick Malfoy hadn't done as much damage as he would like to think, and she knew he could tell whenever Viktor grabbed her tightly to lift her up. It didn't cause pain anymore, although the offending marks had remained on her skin for several days.

At length, she found herself having to sit down. They had been dancing for nearly an hour, only occasionally stopping to speak briefly with someone. At least he was avoiding most of the girls who kept fawning over him; else her night may not have been as enjoyable.

"I will go get us drinks," he said as she sat at a table. Viktor had been kind to her all night, and she nodded thankfully as he disappeared in the direction of the refreshments. She sighed happily. Tonight had been wonderful thus far.

A chair slid out in front of her, and glancing up she frowned as a Slytherin took a seat across from her. "He dances worse than I do."

"Sod off Malfoy. You will not ruin my night."

He chuckled, relaxing in his chair. She wondered where his date- Parkinson- had gone off to. She had just seen them parading around the dance floor a few minutes ago, far too close together to be decent. "She went off with Daphne to the lavatory, like all of you girls do."

She frowned. "Hardly. Only your type of girls seem to. Now will you disappear? I have better things to do than spend my night getting you to leave me alone."

The blonde chuckled again, leaning closer on his chair to her. How had she missed how close he was earlier? "Touché, Granger? I don't see you complaining about his technique, when all you could do was talk about mine."

"Viktor is a perfectly fine dancer and for your information he knows how to hold a woman without leaving her black and blue. You must be proud of that accomplishment."

Maybe if she had been in a less touché mood, she would've seen his lip twitch slightly, but instead she was too focused on getting him to leave her alone. She had seen the blonde speak with Viktor on more than one occasion, and could always soften any argument that might rise between them by bringing up Quidditch. She did not want to spend the rest of her night discussing a topic like that, when she could be dancing with the charming man instead.

"Yes, proud!" he snapped, leaning forwards to grab her knee under the tablecloth. Her eyes snapped up, meeting his, wondering just what he thought he was doing. "You should be careful Granger; I have already told you once that I can leave the bigger mark."

"You must be proud of yourself then; the marks on my hips were shaped just like your bloody hands. I was questioned by my roommates for a week."

He chuckled, his grip tightening, and she leaned forwards a bit to take her wand from the small bag she had opted to bring; if he didn't release she would make him. "I told you Granger, you should always aim to win."

"Why are you bothering me?"

"Why?" she asked when suddenly he released her knee and leaned back. She frowned, confused by his actions until she noticed Viktor sitting back down beside her once more.

"Hello Draco," the Bulgarian said, smiling towards the blonde, who gave him a tight nod in return. "I am sorry," he continued, looking at Hermione, "I had to talk to him." He pointed back in the direction of the table, where a sulking Ron was leaning against the wall. Poor, poor Ron.

She nodded. "That's fine," she replied, sipping her drink. Her eyes slid over to the blonde, whose expression had become unreadable as usual. She wondered if he planned to remain sitting there with them.

They continued talking for a bit, Viktor often turning to involve the blonde in their conversation. Hermione had forgotten that the visiting schools had become masters at ignoring house rivalries, and treated everyone as an equal. It was quite a sight to see.

Soon, Parkinson returned, clinging to the blonde until he finally got up and continued dancing with her- the girl sucking on his neck half the time. She wondered how people could stand themselves sometimes. It wasn't long however before she and Viktor were back on the floor as well.

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They left a bit early that night since Viktor had to get up early and talk to his teams coach about his temporary relocation since he was missing practices. He walked her to the Gryffindor common room, stopping at the bottom of the staircase that led up to it.

"I had nice time tonight Hermione," he said, and she could only smile at his slightly fractured English; it was charming in a way. "Thank you for coming with me."

"Thank you for asking," she replied, smiling up at him. She had so much fun tonight, she hardly cared that it had taken four hours to prepare. She rarely got dressed up like this after all, so it was okay. And she wouldn't deny that the attention she received was fantastic. No one ever really looked at her like they did tonight, and she may not want that all the time but once in a while was great.

"Of course, I wanted to take you." His accent was thick, and in the aftermath of the tiring Ball she found it soothing. What she found terrifying was when he leaned down and promptly covered her lips with his- This was something she had never anticipated. They had only spoken a few times, and only gone out just this once.

That didn't mean that she was a prude however. The kiss was soft and sweet, and she enjoyed it, even if it was unexpected. Of course, nothing remains the same for long, and she quickly found that he wanted to force the kiss deeper. She turned her head to the side, and he kissed the skin of her cheek and ear.

"Viktor- stop," she said, pushing him lightly away. Her lips hurt from the few scarce moments he really began applying pressure to her, and she could only imagine that they were swollen. At her words, he pulled back.

"You don't like?"

"This isn't why I came with you tonight," she said, backing up and placing her hands on her hips. "You're nice, but I barely know you. If you were looking for someone to shag at the end of the night you should've gone with Pansy Parkinson- she is always up for something, and no, it's not a good thing."

He was giving her an odd look. "The girl Draco Malfoy went with?"

"Yes. Did you see her dancing? That should answer enough right there."

The Bulgarian tilted his head. "Would you rather I went with her, so you could go with Malfoy?"

She made a face. "Hardly. But this isn't why I came with you, and I wish you had realized that."

He nodded tightly. "I see. Goodnight then Hermione." She listened to him slaughter her name once again, but didn't comment. She said goodnight as well, and watched as he dejectedly walked past her back down the stairs. He was obviously hoping for more, but that was something she would not give.

Turning, she made her way up the remaining stairs, bumping her knee on the banister. It hurt more than it should, and she just knew Malfoy had left another purple mark. This night had soured quickly it seemed. Oh well, at least no one had been around to comment.

Of course, she hadn't noticed the lurking eyes that had watched the entire exchange.

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Malfoy's mark was not hideously obvious this time like before, and she thankfully wasn't questioned multiple times the next morning when she got dressed. It appeared that she had merely bumped her knee this time, which was far better than hand shaped bruises.

Entering her first class, she noted that the blonde in question was sporting a black eye of his own. Curious, she looked around the room to see if anyone seemed to know what had happened. After asking the girl that sat behind her, it appeared that no one had an explanation yet, even the Slytherins.

Throughout class she was unable to shake the stupid image of him with that black eye. It had not been there last night when he bothered her, so it happened sometime after the Ball if people didn't have anything to report. But what went on?

Halfway through the period, she found an answer. Viktor- who was also in their class temporarily- walked in, a few nice bruises littering his skin. She cringed. Merlin, they had to of gotten into a fight, by why? There was no time to ask, and she like everyone else present sat silently, thinking up their own conclusions.

She felt eyes on her back all through class, but couldn't place why. As she was leaving she turned and met their owner; Malfoy had been the one watching her, and that made her nervous.

Why did he have such an angry look on his face?

* * *

"Satisfied?" he asked her later, when they were passing one another in the hallway. Hermione whipped around at the voice, having thought she was alone. This was a free period of hers, and she did not expect to run into anyone on the trip to the library.

"Excuse me?" she asked, placing her hands on her hips. Malfoy was leaning against the wall staring at her, his eyes seeming to see right through her. Or maybe it only seemed that way because of his bruised eye.

At her comment, he shoved away from the stone. Walking carefully, he stopped just in front of her, his eyes glaring down at her. "You heard me. Are you satisfied now?"

"I don't know what you are talking about," she huffed, glaring at him. "May I pass now?"

He reached out then, gripping her arm and forcing her closer. "Don't play stupid, Granger. I know you are the reason it happened."

"Well maybe I can verify this if you told me what you are going on about," she huffed again, irritated. In response, he pointed to his eye.

"You put that idea in his head," he hissed.

"Who?" she wondered, eyebrows drawing together. Thankful that she had nothing in her arms, she reached up and shoved him off of her arm.

"Viktor Krum!" he spat, and realization slowly dawned on her. She had mentioned Pansy Parkinson out of anger, but that was obviously not what Krum had taken it as. Considering she had gone with Malfoy, Krum must've found them and probably attempted the same thing he did with her, only this time there was a third party.

"He found you? Oh, did he go after Pansy-"

He chuckled, reaching down to grab her chin. "No Mudblood, he did not, because he never got that far. I already knew he was coming before then."

She frowned. "How?"

Leaning in, he breathed on her face, "You should learn you use your bloody eyes more. Thanks to that idiot, I now have this marring my features." He pointed at the black eye, and she smiled.

"I think it makes you look better actually."

He gripped her shoulders, and her hand drifted to her wand. There was no way she was going to just let him openly hurt her without retaliating; that was just not right. "Careful Granger; you're in no position to laugh at me."

"I'm not," she asked, testing her boundaries. "I think I am actually. You stalked me last night, and now you are blaming me for the fight you got into?"

"Absolutely not!" he bit back, rolling his eyes. "That was his fault. You gave him the idea." He tightened his grip. "So be careful what you say Granger. You seem to bruise easily."

"I could say the same for you," she remarked, her hand around the wand.

"Oh Granger, don't get yourself tangled in this fight. We both know I am going to win in the long run." He dropped her shoulders, pulling out his wand to produce some water so he could wash them. She stared at him, sickened by how seriously he took her "dirty blood". As he shoved past her he wiped his hands on her robe.

"Have a good day Mudblood," he snapped continuing on his way. Her arms hurt, and if he left another mark she was going to have a fit. Pulling out her wand quickly, she whispered a spell. A satisfied look crossed her face as his thick head sprouted antennas.

"I'll have a better day than you," she remarked, but he didn't hear. "You can't always harm me Malfoy, no matter where you think you stand. Didn't anyone ever teach you some manners?"

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**A/n: **Most updates won't be this quick but I wanted to give a ground basis, as well as hear what you readers think about which path this story should follow. I like hearing what you guys have to say since it gives me a different viewpoint :) Chapters may also increase in length.

So did you enjoy? Let me know! We are still talking about bruises and marks here :D


	3. Restrospect: Wrists

**A/n:** This is a bit late, but I got stuck on what I wanted to portray next. I definitely know what I want to have happen now in this story, which is good for you lovelies! Thanks to my beta **loveinthemadness**!

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He was watching her with dark eyes from his place in the stands. The final task of the Triwizard Tournament was being held, and all the competitors had gone into the blasted hedges. But there was nothing to do now, and unfortunately his eyes kept dancing over to the Gryffindor, who was too involved in some sort of conversation with the Weasel to even notice. It was bloody annoying.

It had been weeks since his fight with Krum, and the black eye was gone. He hoped that the girl would take the hint that he didn't appreciate being messed with, but no; she had gone off telling him he needed _manners._ If he hadn't been raised to be a gentleman, he would've hit her. Bruises were different than hits in his book- since many of the elder witches he knew enjoyed having multiple marks administered to their bodies from upper classmen whenever they were hot- and he felt no guilt for those marks on her. But she thought she could talk up to him like that? Well, she had another thing coming!

About twenty minutes into the pause between the competitor's entrance and finding out who would win, Granger stood and hurried down the stands. He watched with interest as she briefly spoke with the old bat, before turning and leaving the place entirely. Now she had his interest.

_Well well, where are we running off to in the night Granger? _He couldn't fathom what she would need to leave for since students had actually been given special admittance to this 'legendary' event, but he intended to have a talk with her. For a Mudblood, she was one of the most headstrong, irritating bints he had ever come to know.

He didn't wait long to stand up and make his way down the stands as well, leaving the rambling Crabbe and Goyle behind without explanation. The students and observers were so caught up in their own conversations that no one paid the descending blonde any mind.

"Just where do you think you are going, Mr. Malfoy?" Minerva asked, noticing the blond head coming towards them. The collection of teachers glanced up briefly, noting that the blonde boy seemed to be suppressing a smug look.

Draco came up with the first thing that came to mind. "I am feeling ill," he said, clutching at his stomach. The woman gave him a skeptical look, but he wasn't worried, thinking that the girl had probably used a similar lie to get past them back to the castle.

"Well can this wait until after the winner is announced Mr. Malfoy? All you are doing is sitting-"

"I feel as though I will be sick," he spits out, annoyed. Damn the woman; she was going to ask him too many annoying questions, and he had a plan to keep.

Minerva glared at him, but stepped out of the pathway nonetheless. "Go straight to Pompfrey! I don't want to find you lingering in the halls later!" He barely gave her a dismissive wave over his shoulder as he walked past, waiting until he was a bit out of view before picking up his pace. The walk back to the castle was long, and he hoped to catch her on the way up. That would certainly make his message clear.

It didn't take long for a distant figure to catch his eye. Smirking, he pulled out his wand to silence his footsteps; he didn't want her hearing him. He had no intention to do anything bad to the girl, just to remind her that she had no authority to tell him to have better manners. He could not tolerate that kind of comment from a Mudblood of all people.

"Evening Granger," he said, and his voice stopped her in her tracks. He was quite close now, and as she whipped her head around, wand drawn, she noted how near he really was. And she had missed his approach? _How careless of me._

"What are you doing out here, Malfoy?!" she snapped, eyes narrowing in the dark. This was certainly not a person she trusted to walk alone with, and knowing that he had easily snuck up behind her only put her off. Was she really that careless today?

He shrugged in the dim moonlight, his smirk hidden by the shadows around them. "I fancied myself a stroll."

She took a step back. "Well can you do it away from me? Honestly Malfoy, I expected you to be consumed by the tournament down there. I know you wanted to get it, so I supposed you would be down there rooting for Harry to lose. Really, what is wrong with you? Can't you leave me be?"

"Oh, I see, Granger," he said, taking a few daring steps forward, "Now you believe I have come this way just to bother you."

"The last two times our paths have crossed alone that is exactly what you have done."

The blonde shrugged carelessly. "Well perhaps I mean to do you no harm tonight?"

She laughed at that; the sentence was so preposterous. "You plan to do me no harm? Malfoy you've left several bruises on me lately- not something that is really unexpected mind you- but each time we come into contact you leave your mark. It's a bit sinister really. I'm not about to trust you behind me now; go on, walk ahead. I'm just fine following, so long as you hurry along. I do actually have to get back to those stands; I need to wait for Harry."

His eyes flashed. "Don't talk to me like that, Granger!" he growled, tightening his hold on his wand. He was growing tired of the girl's supreme attitude, speaking to him as though _he_ were the Mudblood, instead of her.

She sighed, irritated. "I'm not trying to be rude, Malfoy, I just have better things to do with my time. Now will you walk ahead already? I have other things to do-"

In half a moment he tackled her into the ground, her head hitting the hard earth. She fired off a spell that was meant to burn him, but missed and only singed his hair. He pinned her arms down. "Now you listen to me, Granger!" he spat, glaring down at her now afraid face in the moonlight, "Don't ever speak to me like I am a dog- I will not stand for it! Who do you think you are? You're a Mudblood, nothing more! Just because you are Potter's fucking friend doesn't do anything for you." He pressed harder on her wrists. "Understand?"

"What is your problem, Malfoy?" she asked again, looking up into his eyes. "I'm just trying to watch my back- and with good reason! Look where you have me!"

He took a moment to think about the situation they were in. Then he released her arms and jumped off of her body, putting several feet between them. She sat up slowly, tightening her hold on her wand. He was strong, and her wrists burned, but she would not let her guard down a second time. He was away from her now, and she intended to keep it that way. She kept her wand angled at him, ignoring the pain in her back and head; he had thrown the whole of his weight on her, slamming her into the ground. She was going to be quite sore in the morning.

The blonde was looking at her closely. "See what happens when you try to step out of line Granger? You make people angry." He held his hands up, his wand aimed towards the sky, and backed away slowly in the direction he had come. His goal was complete; his reason for following her fulfilled. He felt certain that she understood his point now.

She never took her eyes off of him until he disappeared back into the darkness again.

* * *

Malfoy was an absolute idiot. She had checked her back a few days ago, right after the drama of Cedric Digory's death and the announced return of Voldemort, she hadn't given it much thought. That next morning she had gone to take a shower and stepping out of the steamy room to look in the mirror, she discovered a large purple-black bruise littering the skin of her back. She scowled; the git. He probably thought that was perfectly fine to leave on her, the Mudblood.

Along both her wrists were faint bruises as well from where he had pinned her to the ground. She remembered that first short terrifying moment when she realized where he had her, and panic had soared through her body. But he had gotten back up off of her, he had done nothing else , except return to his cocky self. He thought he was teaching her something? All he was doing was leaving a bunch of marks.

She wore long sleeves the last several days to hide the bruises. Damn him, he kept doing this to her. What had she done? She had left crescent shaped marks on his hand that lasted a short amount of time, nothing more. The beauteous black eye he had sported for a while was due to Viktor Krum, not her own hand, and that was exceptionally irritating.

The girl refused to take this from him! He kept coming across her, doing whatever he bloody wanted. First dancing, then watching her at night, and now tackling her into the ground? What was wrong with him? What was going through his mind? He wasn't scaring her now, he was infuriating her! This blonde man thought he had some sort of right to do this to her? Ha!

She brushed her hair. She would have to come up with something to do to get back at him, but what? She didn't have the physical strength he did, and with everything that had just happened she couldn't rightly go around worrying Harry and Ron, for their focus needed to be elsewhere. Things were coming apart quickly, and if Voldemort was planning a comeback soon then their heads needed to be cleared for that.

Hermione knew she would need to have an answer that would solve this before school let out, so that they did not have problems like this anymore. They stood on opposing sides of the war, and to keep interacting like this would only get more and more dangerous.

* * *

It was the last day; they were at the final feast of the year. Draco sat smugly across the Great Hall, watching the Mudblood with judgmental eyes. She had no retaliation? Nothing to say to him like the last time, nothing to yell at him or send to him in the form of enraged notes? It was disappointing; he expected more of a fight from her.

He knew that the rise of Voldemort had her on the edge, like all the students at school. There was talk about it- only rumors that the Dark Lord had returned, and no one was sure. He could only imagine what the students would go home and tell their parents that summer. It almost made him wonder how many of them would return the following year. But this was only a rumor and so long as there was no solid proof except Cedric's death and Potter's word, he didn't think it would have that big of an impact on the student population.

The blonde couldn't take his eyes off of her. Would she return to school when the man, who wanted every last one of her kind dead, was back? He supposed she would, because she was stubborn and Potter's best friend. She would return, he knew, even when her life would be on the line. That's how she had always been in his opinion.

He sipped his pumpkin juice. If the Dark Lord was ready to come out, his father would be right up there with him. If Lucius decided to be in close residence with the man, Draco could assume that he would offer the man anything. What would happen over the summer? He didn't know.

Still, he watched her speak with her friends. Her life would remain the same, at least for now.

* * *

"I expected more from you," he snapped, catching her attention. They were returning borrowed supplies from Potions that night; anything they had forgotten that needed to be turned back to Snape- so he didn't kill them. Never had the blonde expected to see Granger, of all people, there.

"What does that mean, Malfoy?" she snapped, rubbing at her wrists as she looked at him. She was no fool; she remembered their last few encounters and would not let him have any advantages over her this time. Besides, this was the only opportunity that had arisen for her to possibly get back at him. She couldn't pass this up.

He shrugged, watching her rub her skin. Had there been marks there too? He knew her back had taken a beating when his combined weight pounced on her. He didn't even like to think back to those few moments when he had been on top of her; it was revolting to think that he could get so close to her so carelessly.

"I expected you to do something after our last meeting."

"Like what?"

He huffed, crossing his arms as a scowl took over his features. "Don't play stupid Granger; I know I left marks last time we met up. You deserved them really, thinking that you could be so blatantly rude to me. I just expected you to do something to me in return. It's not really in your nature to take things lying down, is it? Or has the reality of being a Mudblood finally caught up to you and you realize that you can't beat us Purebloods?" He inclined an eyebrow, waiting to see what she would come up with to respond.

When she spoke, it was not something he was ready for. "Oh, that? You think that I will sink down to your level, Malfoy? Now _that _is absurd. Just because you think that leaving marks is the only way to get a point through, doesn't mean that I do. I have better things to do these days than try and get back at you for your pathetic antics. You believe that hurting people is the only way to make them listen?" She shook her head, knowing very well that she was getting to the git, "You're mistaken. There are other ways to make people hear your point. Like now for instance; I have done nothing more than speak, and look- you can't stop listening to me." She smiled, watching his scowl deepen. "And I didn't lift a finger."

He clenched his fists, resisting the urge to place his hands around her skinny neck. "Watch yourself, Granger. Just because the year is over doesn't mean our little battle is. Have your forgotten? We have three more years of school together."

She nodded, brown curls moving all over at this. "I know, Malfoy, but hopefully you can grow up and drop this while ordeal next year, don't you think?" Without waiting for a response, she brushed past him out of the room, intent on going back to her room to catch as many hours of sleep as she could before getting on the train to go home.

Malfoy remained behind, clenching and unclenching his hands. What was wrong with that girl? Was she always that compelled to put herself in dangerous situations? He rolled his eyes at that. Well of course she was! Look at what she just said to him. He continued to watch the door she had left through.

This certainly wouldn't be over next year. She was still too cocky for her own good, and someone was bound to break that confidence eventually. Hopefully it would be him.

And maybe bruises weren't the only way to get a point through, but Draco wasn't about to admit that the _Mudblood_ had a point.

_See you next year Granger. Just wait until you see what you have started._

* * *

**A/n: **Let me know what you think! This is about to open a whole new door to the story so let me know your thoughts dearies :) They can only help me make this story better!


	4. Retrospect: Scar

**A/n: **Off to fifth year we go! Hello readers, I am back for another chapter. There is also a beta for this now! Thanks to my beta **loveinthemadness**! And as always, check me out on facebook! The link is up on my profile.

* * *

The summer had not been as calm as Hermione had hoped. No, instead she found herself a bit on edge. After her rumble with Malfoy in the dark and ending up bruised for weeks, she had been on edge. Something about that boy had slowly begun to unravel, and it became apparent each time they met up. What had started out as small marks had progressed overtime.

And then there was the whole Voldemort issue to worry about. She could only hope that Malfoy wasn't getting involved in it. With his father being a high ranking Death Eater it didn't take long to consider that Malfoy could be one as well. But that was a horrid thought, one she tried to push from her mind. The problem was it just wasn't working. And now summer was over, and she would be back at school with that man once more.

So far, she hadn't even seen him. They had been back for three days and thus far nothing had been noted about the blond. He could just be avoiding people, but she knew from some loudmouth Slytherin girls that he had returned. So where exactly was he?

It didn't take long that fourth day for her to spot him though. They were on their way to Lunch that day, everyone chatting about their holiday still when she spotted him. The boy who had been absent or otherwise avoiding people for three long days had returned, and she had to raise an eyebrow at his appearance.

He was walking in the middle of his circle of friends as usual, one of the Slytherin sluts hanging from his arm. Squinting her eyes, she realized it was Pansy, who seemed to have grown up quite a bit _physically _that summer. But the blonde's eyes were not on his date to the Yule Ball last year, but seemed to focus on nothing as they continued to walk. His henchmen were nowhere to be found, which was odd, but Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott were walking with him. That's not what caught her attention however.

His eyes were haunted. The normally sleeked back hair was messy and hung free, allowing blonde fringe to linger in his eyes. His skin looked drawn and taught, like he hadn't been eating enough, and the bags until his grey eyes indicated that sleep did not come easily to him. She frowned, thinking that was not the way someone should look after the summer break.

Something about the way he appeared didn't seem right, like something was wrong. Nudging Ron, the ginger stopped, causing Harry to notice and pause as well.

"Is Malfoy looking a bit sick to you?"

Ron and Harry gave her a funny look, trying to figure out why she cared. "I think it's a good look for him," the ginger said, giving a lazy shrug. "Maybe it'll humble him a bit if his looks disappear for awhile. Now maybe every girl in the school won't be throwing themselves at him."

"I don't know, Ron," Harry said slowly watching the Slytherin group as they passed, "He looks pretty awful."

"Well, that's what he gets for being such an arrogant git all these years," Ron huffed, rolling his eyes. He started away, passing by Harry. The raven haired boy shrugged at Hermione, letting the conversation drop. It wasn't their problem after all to concern themselves with the actions of Draco Malfoy.

But Hermione had a nagging voice inside of her head that said otherwise. Something felt wrong about leaving Malfoy to fend for himself, even after his actions at the end of last year. She had been expecting to be confronted by the confident blonde again this year, but that possibility seemed to have disappeared. Indeed, he did seem different even so early into the New Year.

She just wasn't sure if it was a good different.

* * *

He hadn't gotten near her so far, even when they were walking opposite ways in the halls. He didn't try to start an argument, degrade her, nothing. It was a bit unsettling to see such a drastic change occur to him when it had only been a few months since they last saw each other If she didn't know any better, she would just assume this was Malfoy's ghost. He hardly participated in class, meals, or anything else. Even his activeness in Quidditch was off, and word was going around that there might be the need to find a new Seeker this year.

And still none of it seemed to get to him. He continued to wander aimlessly, looking lost and confused. She wondered how long the cycle would continue.

And she really wondered what happened to strike the change in the first place.

It had been going around as a lively rumor through the school in hushed tones that Malfoy had received the Dark Mark over the holiday. While this accusation was believable, she found herself trying to deny this idea. He was a bully and liked to think he was better than everyone else, but she hoped he didn't see himself as a killer. As school entered its third week it became obvious that he knew of the gossip and didn't care. He seemed to be attempting to just shut it out of his mind entirely.

Hermione didn't even get close to him until the fourth week of school. It wasn't that she was avoiding him; just that she had not had any reason to be near him. He nearly killed her one night while she was walking down the corridor and the door in front of her was thrown open, shoving her backwards into the wall. The impact was powerful, and it hurt her head as she was slammed into the stone. Groaning, she slid down the surface until she was sitting on the floor, slowly trying to get her blurry vision to subside. It was then that the platinum blonde head finally caught her attention.

She reached for her wand as she spoke. "Malfoy?"

"Little late to be wandering the halls, isn't it, Granger?" the blonde retorted crossing his arms. The usual drawl was there, but something was laced beneath it that made her wonder.

"I am a prefect, just like you. I have as much of a right to wander these halls as you do." She was rubbing her head, her vision fading back and forth. Why did this have to happen? After the few encounters that the pair had last year, she felt highly uncomfortable not being able to see in his presence.

"Hardly. You should be watching your back more than anything."

She tried to narrow her eyes at him, and began struggling to her feet, books set aside and forgotten. "And why do you say that? Is this another jab at my blood status?" She got to her feet, accio-ing her books up to her.

He chuckled, and she noted that the usual hint of entertainment that his voice would carry was gone. The chuckle was almost uneven and painful to listen to. "I don't need to jab at your blood status- you already know what I think. No, I was thinking more along the lines of Umbridge."

She raised an eyebrow. The short overly-pink woman was not a concern to her, just a bother. She only saw the woman once a day, but had heard rumors she was a very strange teacher. "Why would I need to worry about her?" Her vision was clear now, and she was glad. Standing with Malfoy in a mostly dark corridor was partially terrifying- although she would never let him know that.

He smirked, and she felt uneasy under that gaze. "Rumors Granger, they are all rumors that I hear."

"Which are?"

Draco chuckled. "And you think I will tell you that? What I hear traveling around school are probably the same little things you annoying Gryffindors find out- just maybe at a later date than us Slytherins."

She raised an eyebrow, thinking that was quite the lie. Slytherins gossiped less than many people in the school- probably because they were so very cold when it came to_ anything_- and she couldn't fathom why rumors about a stout pink lady from the Ministry mattered so much to the blonde in front of her. But, this was an excellent time to quiz the arrogant twit, since he was so willingly bringing up the topic. "I see. Rumor's like your newfound allegiance to Voldemort?" His eyes flashed, and even in the fading light she could see his hands tensing. She kept her hand by her wand. "I mean, I already knew which way you would go in the upcoming war, but so soon? I never expected you to so willingly take the mark-"

He had his hands on her neck in an instant, shoving her back into the wall again. Her books fell at the same time that her hands locked on her wand. "Listen here Granger-"

"Rictusempra," she gasped, and his hands fell away as the tickling charm overtook him. He glared at her while laughing, trying to hold an intimidating stance the entire time. She released the spell only seconds later, rubbing at her neck. It was already sore, and his strong grip had only been there a moment. "Are you done blocking my air?"

"Don't presume you know anything about what I did over my summer holiday," the blonde growled, bent at the knee so his hands could rest there. Again, he was trying not to jump back at her and choke her again. "You know nothing about me. Don't go making dangerous assumptions ,Granger; they could get you hurt." He straightened, crossing his arms tightly. "Just like it almost did now."

She picked her books up again, hugging them tightly. "That's a rather large response for just a rumor," she said, looking down. "Hiding something?"

"I won't hesitate to pin you down again like last year if you persist Granger. I've grown, and although you have as well you're nowhere near my size. Without that pretty little wand you are almost helpless against me."

She tightened her hold on her wand, eyes narrowing. "Should I be afraid of being attacked?" she challenged, shifting her weight a bit.

He smirked once again. "Only if you make me angry." He turned on his heel with those words, and began to walk away.

"Malfoy," she called after him, and the prick sighed before looking back at her. His face was still worn, like he had too many things to stress about, but the attitude he was keeping up while speaking with her never gave that fear away. "Why should I be worried about Umbridge?" she asked, wondering if she would get anything out of him at all. But he had been the one to start this conversation originally, when he slammed her into the wall with a door.

"Like I told you before, Granger, they are only rumors. I'm certain you will realize when she becomes a threat." He didn't give her anymore, and turned again to continue on his way.

She nearly called after him, but resisted the urge. He was going to dance around answers every time she brought it up and only give her more to think about. It was Malfoy after all, what did she expect? A supply of answers?

As she turned in the other direction to head back to her common room, she couldn't get his face out of her mind. The blonde looked so haunted at first, and now he was collected and cocky? That couldn't be real. It appeared to her that Draco Malfoy was playing everyone a fool, making them believe one thing and feeling another. Was he really haunted? She didn't know.

But she did know whose side he would be on, and that made him dangerous. He hadn't told her whether or not he bore the Dark Mark, only that there was a possibility. Would he really be admitted into the pledged group so young? She didn't know, didn't really understand their ways, and she only knew but one thing.

If he continued down the path he was on, there was a possibility Malfoy would lose who he was. If he kept this up, who was to say that he would even recognize himself when he looks in the mirror? The stress of his life was already obvious in the way he had looked at her, spoken to her, and appeared in an everyday setting. His warnings, his threats all meant nothing if he couldn't back them up.

But if he was changing for the worst, who was to say that he couldn't do horrible things? As Hermione continued on her walk, she realized he had completely eluded answering her question about the Dark Mark. _Slimy git._

* * *

Hermione soon realized she should've heeded Malfoy's word a bit better. Umbridge had taken over Hogwarts, changing so very many things. She could hardly believe that so many people were being removed, and that the woman actually had this much control over the seemingly independent school. She really hated how things were changing.

And worst of all, Malfoy was benefiting from all of this. Not only were things affecting Harry, but Draco bloody Malfoy had control over so very many students by making the strategic choice of following Umbridge. She knew the blond would never willingly listen to a woman like that, but every time he was permitted to boss around the younger students- or sometimes his peers- over minor things she saw the gleam in his eyes. He liked the power, and that had to be the sole reason he was helping her.

But if she heard Malfoy barking at her to hurry to class one more time she was going to turn her wand on him. He still looked hollow, like something had been eating at his very soul, but the arrogance created a fine mask for him to hide behind. Since most people considered him shallow, it didn't surprise the brunette in the slightest how easily everyone was overlooking the obvious signs of sadness in the twit's face. She expected his friends to notice, to care, but it seemed that they were just as oblivious as everyone else in that school. Crabbe and Goyle she would expect this from, but not people like Blaise Zabini and Draco's own fan girl Pansy Parkinson. Was everyone so naïve to the blonde's feelings? As she watched his features continue to deteriorate over the weeks, she assumed that had to be the answer.

It was still sad though, to see how little people cared about Malfoy as a person. If anyone considered him as a real friend, they would've accounted for the same things she was already, right? They would notice that something was wrong, that something had changed from last year. But no everyone seemed to be acting very ignorant and careless.

And she witnessed that with her own eyes. Having left class to go to the restroom, Hermione found a pitiful sight one winter day. Crouched on the floor, seemingly fighting off waves of sobs, was Draco Malfoy himself. She cringed, thinking how pathetic it really was to find him this way. She couldn't see if there were streaks on his pale face, for his head was bowed, but she didn't need to. The way his body shook was enough of an indicator.

"Malfoy?" she asked, slowly- cautiously- just like she had done weeks before when he hit her with a door. His head did not lift, but he gestured to her rudely with his middle finger. She huffed, thinking how sad that really was. He could do better than flipping her off, couldn't he?

Taking a chance, she sat down a few feet away from him, glancing around. It would be so very typical for Umbridge or her little slave Filch to appear. But no, for the moment they appeared to be alone.

"Malfoy," she tried again, her voice stronger than before. "Why are you sobbing in the middle of a corridor?"

He didn't look up, but he did fall back onto his bottom, a position that appeared to be more comfortable than the crouch he had been maintaining. Watching this, she could only compare him to a frustrated child. "Come back to chat, Granger?" he said dryly, his voice strained. He did not look at her, and she watched his fingers twitch lightly on the stone floor- as though this moron were nervous near her. "Sorry to disappoint, but I am not in the mood for our usual banter."

"You don't appear to be in the mood for much. But aren't you jeopardizing your carefully earned position among Umbridge's inner group by showing such blatant emotion in public? That is how you got in isn't it- by acting as though you feel nothing? Don't even try and dismiss i,t Malfoy, you know it's true. You have been so much quieter this year, as though you don't feel _anything_."

"We're back to this so soon Granger? Are you going to pry at my personal life again and ask idiotic questions like whether or not I have taken the Mark yet? Need I remind you that my personal life is _none of your business_?" He tightened his hands into fits, shifting the sleeve of his cloak slightly as he spoke, and that was when she noticed his inner arm. Her eyebrows shot up.

She knew he expected an immediate reply, but she found herself quickly at a loss for words. It took her several additional seconds past what was expected for her to reply, and he had nearly gotten up to leave when she spoke again. "Have you been cutting?"

His head finally snapped up, and she could see clearly that his cheeks were moist. So the git had been sobbing? Her eyes scanned the small area around his for a knife of sorts, before realizing that he could always say a spell that could do the same harm.

It was then that he finally got off the ground, and she followed right behind him, trying to force the concern she felt for him away. _Had he really been harming himself in such horrid ways?_ She really shouldn't have cared, not with all the things he had done to her last year, but she couldn't help it. Never had she felt so low in her life to physically harm herself. But then, the cut had looked rather old… and no blood lingered. It was more of a scar than anything.

He took two short steps, placing himself directly in front of her. She marveled again at their height difference. She half expected him to grab her in a demanding manner like he always did, but for once his arms remained at his side; but his expression was cruel. "_I _would never mar my own skin," he hissed, his eyes livid. She was surprised by the hostility in his tone, and let it show through her face when she spoke again.

"Then who did?"

But he didn't grant her a reply. Instead, he scoffed and turned away, hurrying away down the corridor like the coward she had always known him to be.

_Who's been marking you, Malfoy?_

* * *

**A/n: **Leave a review! I would love to know your thoughts!


	5. Retrospect: Break

**A/n:** A different look at things. Hope you enjoy**! **Thanks to my beta **loveinthemadness**! And as always, check me out on facebook! The link is up on my profile.

* * *

Hermione found herself quite busy that year. When Dumbledore was "removed" from Hogwarts and the staff began disappearing, things got hectic. She was constantly off with Harry and Ron trying to do whatever she could, but on top of constantly studying, she found herself beginning to wear thin. It was an uncomfortable feeling, one which she would try to ignore the best she could. She could not allow herself to be tired; there was too much to be done.

She hardly had any time to think about the haunting blonde she would continuously encounter. Something was certainly off with Malfoy that year, but she could not place her finger on it. Something was wrong and it was a secret that he apparently did not intend to share with anyone, least of all her. But the way he continued to carry himself showed that there was something off- for his usual cockiness was still decreasing. In fact, she had begun to note that Blaise Zabini had taken over the spotlight as Slytherin's favorite.

But that was before things started getting overly complicated. Umbridge was becoming a dictator, changing everything she could about Hogwarts. This school no longer reflected the wonderland so many children were privileged to attend school at but a magical prison that strictly locked down on opinions and ideals. Everything was done exactly the way Dolores wanted it, without exceptions.

It was around this time that Hermione started seeing Malfoy often again. Umbridge had appointed certain _worthy_ students the 'pleasure' of being her own personal workers basically, and the former Slytherin Prince was one of them. He paraded around the halls looking for anyone who appeared to be out of line, more often than not picking on Hermione and her friends, just because he could. It became a tedious task to deal with, but she could almost immediately see the fakeness in Malfoy's composure. Just like before, something was different, and each time they confronted each other she noted how long his sleeves were. What was he hiding?

_More cuts? That has to be it; where else would lines like that come from? Now if I could only figure out how to be sure, I could refocus my mind on things that are super important… like Voldemort, not petty school boys. _

Even Ron and Harry noticed the differences in his composure. On more than one occasion, he would refuse to hold eye contact with whoever he was speaking with- even people he was attempting to intimidate. He had stopped Ron in the halls a few days ago and had been more interested in the pillar behind his body than the ginger's red face. Considering how much he loved to watch Weasley get all worked up and irritated over something, this was a strange spectacle indeed. And it only made the brunette's head whirl all the more. What had gotten beneath his skin?

It was only after word got around that Malfoy had nearly hit a third year boy that Hermione decided to get into his personal space once again. Sure, the prat was a bully, but he rarely got physical with any underclassmen- or physical at all. The news spread quickly, and although it violated one of Umbridge's many rules, the blonde somehow sweet talked his way out of trouble. That only grated on her nerves.

She found him one night during supper in the corridors, sneering down at yet another young boy. Having no idea what was wrong, she quickly hurried over. The boy could be no older than eleven or twelve, and tears from being lectured too long and cruelly dripped down his face. As she got closer she heard some of the words he was using and scowled.

"That's not appropriate, you know," she huffed, stopping the blonde in mid-sentence. He glanced away from the terrified boy to look up at her, his eyes flashing as he took in who it was. Damn her! She was always showing up in his life at the most inconvenient of times.

He straightened, looking in her direction but refusing to hold her gaze. "Excuse me, Granger, but this conversation does not concern you. Get on your way; I am dealing with a student for Umbridge."

"Looks to me like you are traumatizing a young child!" she spat in return, her eyes livid. "Just because you have been granted this misplaced power, doesn't mean you should so easily abuse it." Looking down, her eyes met those of a boy with a scarf resembling that of a Hufflepuff, something which explained to Hermione why he appeared so gentle hearted. Giving him a soft smile, she nodded her head back in the direction of the Great Hall. "Why don't you get back to dinner? Your friends must be missing you." She shot Malfoy a look over the boy's head.

The child glanced between them, his fearful eyes large. It made her heart ache, not because Malfoy could make him sad, but because it had been done with words. War was on it's way, and it was people like this that scared her the most. Those who were too emotionally fragile would have the hardest time surviving, and he was so very young.

"But he said he would have words with me," the child muttered, looking down. His gaze had fallen on Draco last, and Hermione knew exactly who the boy was speaking of.

"This guy?" she joked, nudging Malfoy. It was a bold move, one that made her smile. Malfoy was too busy gaping at her forwardness to even say a word. "He's not too bad; you just have to know how to handle him. I'll speak to him; now get along."

Eager to be away from the pair, the young boy nodded quickly before rushing off. When Hermione did turn back to look at the blonde, he was fuming. Grabbing her arm roughly, he dragged her into an empty classroom, slamming the door. She allowed it to happen, and had her wand drawn by the time he turned back around.

"What the hell do you think you are doing?!" he snapped, practically snarling. His eyes were livid, but she wasn't bothered by his actions. He had been this way with her more than once.

"I was saving a child from the angry woes of a Slytherin," she replied, crossing her arms. "The poor boy was in tears, Malfoy; you could've left him alone. What was he even doing that made it so horrible that you just had to yell at him?"

"He was late to dinner!" Draco snapped in return.

Hermione's eyes widened a fraction. "You mean you made the poor child cry all because he was tardy to a meal!? Are you mental? There are so many things that could've kept him from arriving on time! Did you think of that?"

"I asked-"

"I'm sure you asked a bunch of harsh questions that were irrelevant, but degrading on the poor boy's self-esteem. Was this an obligation of yours assigned to you by the 'Queen of Pink' herself, or did you personally take up the responsibility of terrifying the underclassmen? Even _I_ thought you were better than that, Malfoy! He had to have been eleven or twelve, and you were lecturing him over something minor." She shook her head. "All you are doing is abusing your power."

He scoffed. "Hardly, Granger, I am merely keeping people in line."

At this, her eyebrows shot up. "You are willing to keep people in line, while you yourself are constantly over the edge? Can you be any more of a hypocrite? No, you probably can't, because then someone would actually have to understand what goes on in that mind of yours!" Finished with her fuming, she brushed past him. She had a date to keep with Harry and Ron- in the Room of Requirement.

It was a short walk to the Room, for she was meeting there with Harry and Ron early to help and set everything up. Now she was late because she had stopped to lecture Malfoy for yelling at a young boy. Did he have a heart at all?

"Well look there, it's the Mudblood."

Nearly to the Room of Requirement, Hermione stopped immediately at the sound of a voice, inwardly cursing herself for being so careless. Why wasn't she watching and listening for nearby people? It would be foolish to allow anyone to discover what was going to start happening up here, what with Umbridge and her insane ways.

But the voice was familiar, if only vaguely. Turning quickly with a drawn wand, Hermione faced off against Malfoy's usual henchmen, Crabbe and Goyle. Only their leader was absent, and now that they were not flanking the skinny blonde she found that they were quite a bit more intimidating. Sure, next to Malfoy they looked superior in size, but directly next to each other they seemed to only enunciate how large they were. At least they weren't the sharpest duelers.

"Something I can help you with?" she asked shortly, turning her chin up. She did not like being found by them so close to the Room, nor alone. They were Slytherins, and moreover they were on Umbridge's side. What in Merlin's name did they want with her.

"Avoiding dinner?" Crabbe asked again, exchanging a look with Goyle. She watched their movements carefully, ready to strike if anything seemed amiss between their shared body language.

"Can't be doing that, Mudblood."

The brunette hardly acknowledged that they had taken to adopting Malfoy's pet name for her. She was currently hoping no one showed up trying to get into the room, else there would be problems. "I'm hardly avoiding dinner if the meal is nearly over. Really, don't the two of you have something better to do than wander the halls telling everyone that avoiding supper is bad? Malfoy just finished telling me the same thing; I have already been through the bloody lecture. Now can I continue on my way or will you just keep pestering me?"

Again, they exchanged a glance. "You're so forward Granger," Goyle said, taking a few steps in her direction. She had her wand level with his chest in seconds, but he only stopped to smirk at her.

_A smirk? They really do follow Malfoy too much if they are even picking up on his habits. That look doesn't fit Goyle's face; he doesn't have the cheekbones to pull off the smug, arrogance it is supposed to embody._

_What am I saying?_

"You're all alone?" Crabbe inquired next, drawing her from her thoughts. She blinked, looking between the two. They seemed to have some sort of hidden thoughts that she didn't understand, but that they intended to act out. What the plan was, she had no idea, but the look in their eyes told her she probably wouldn't enjoy it.

"That really doesn't matter. I'm on my way to see my friends; they will notice my tardiness."

"But you said the meal just ended," Goyle cut in, and there was this almost bewildered tone to his voice, as though he wasn't sure if this was important or not. _Now I remember why you dolts need Malfoy so much._

"Your point? You have absolutely no idea what my schedule is. I could be late now for all you know. So if you are done, I am going to be on my way. Go find the Ferret King or something," she muttered, turning away. She would walk over to the next corridor and circle back in this direction. Hopefully the two will have moved by the time she returned and she could finally gain access to the Room of Requirement.

So preoccupied with her plans to get in, Hermione completely missed the whispered tone behind her, and didn't realize anything had been said until she found herself hitting the floor in a full body bind. Falling on her front, she could feel one of her wrists snap as the sudden odd angle was forced further as she hit the floor. She attempted to scream, but was quickly silenced.

_Oh great._

A foot kicked her in the side, flipping her over. She could not believe she had just been outsmarted by these two idiots! It was humiliating, but not as bad as the looks they sent in her direction from their elevated positions. Now she really hoped someone would come along.

"We were trying to be nice Mudblood, but you are so difficult. We will teach you a lesson," Crabbe said, his wand drawn. Goyle's was out of sight, and she could only presume it was in his pocket. Letting her eyebrows draw together, she imagined all the ways in that moment she could stun them if only she had her wand in hand. This was a setback, and a dangerous one at that.

"You will listen next time," Goyle said, smiling down at her. It wasn't a kind smile, and she inwardly wished she knew some sort of wandless magic. Her wrist burned and she could almost be certain that it was broken, but that was the least of her concerns. What kind of lesson did they plan to teach her?

Crabbe was reaching to grab something when the voice echoed down the hall. "Crabbe! Goyle! What are the two of you doing over there?"

Never in her entire life had she been so grateful to hear Malfoy's annoying voice. Once she was unbound, she planned to hex both the idiots above her, before making her way off to the hospital wing. Oh, she would have words with Malfoy later, but that was only if he actually planned to help her somehow.

Above her, Crabbe turned to grin at the approaching blonde. "We found the Mudblood prowling around the halls, and we thought we would teach her a lesson-"

"_What!?_ Are you idiots insane? Take those hexes off, now!" The bewildered looks that took over Draco's henchmen's faces was comical, but not at that exact moment. Goyle was quick to undo the spells, and when she could speak again she let out an audible moan. She had to get up, but the idea of doing that suddenly seemed a lot more difficult. She would certainly feel a lot better if the morons above her would step away.

"My father was mentioning it in a letter," Goyle whispered, ignoring Hermione by now as their oh so perfect leader appeared. "He said they have only used it a few times-"

"Well, considering we have nothing to do with that, we won't be following any of _their_ ideas." He glared at the two. "Well, go do something! Patrol the halls. Granger, come with me, I better get you down to the bleeding hospital."

Her eyebrows shot up again as his voice rose, and she slowly got to her feet. What in Merlin's name was going on? Both the henchmen looked sullen as they turned and stepped away, and neither dared to look in her direction. She was confused even as the blonde snapped an arm out and painfully grabbed her now broken bone. She hissed, her focus returning to him.

"You should be careful, Granger; there are people worse than I in this school that will not hesitate to cause you harm."

"Like them?!" she bit back, her hand coming up to pull his off. He allowed her to, but demanded that she go to the hospital wing. It was an odd request, and she refused to walk in front of him on the trip. Oddly enough, he escorted her there. "What are you doing?"

"Walking, same as you," he replied from just in front of her. "A bit paranoid after your little encounter?"

_And late. I don't know how I will explain this to Harry and Ron. _"Actually, I'm more curious than anything." Her words were strained, and although she was using her wand to dull the pain she was not exactly an expert in healing spells and didn't dare try out her first test on her own body. "Why are you bothering to take me to the hospital wing when you yourself have left some marks on me so many times? What is the difference to you?"

He didn't look at her. "There is no difference."

She frowned, and they rounded the last corner to their destination. She had several things she wanted to ask him about his attitude, but all those questions were cut off when he suddenly whirled around and grasped her arm above the break, pulling his wand out to repair the damage with a quick flick. Stunned, she marveled at the repair work.

"Why-"

"I didn't need to bring you down here Granger- actually I didn't need to do anything for you, I just chose to." He dropped her arm, his eyes focused on the ceiling above her head. She wished he would look at her so she could maybe get an idea as to what was going on in his mind. "I am only restating my original point."

"And what is that?" she snapped.

At first she worried he wouldn't reply, just turned to walk past her, but as he was passing her he responded. "I am not the worst bloke in school."


	6. Aftermath: Reflect

**A/n:** Alright guys, this looks at things later in life! Don't worry, we will come back and look at the school years again, I just don't want things to start getting super boring as we continue on with their lives as children versus their lives as adults. I hope that made sence :) Well, enjoy! Thanks to my beta **loveinthemadness**! And as always, check me out on facebook! The link is up on my profile.

* * *

Looking back on his life, Draco could not be more disappointed thus far. At the age of twenty he had accomplished very little in his lifetime, and had far more regrets. Sitting in his trashed home, the décor ruined during the war, he could only smoke his life away with each new puff of a cancerous cigarette. The days were bleak, the nights long, and he could only ever focus on a few things here and there. As it was, things were not going well.

In the silence of his abode he had many things to dwell on. His parents were on probation and lock-down probably for the next ten years, having only served one year each in Azkaban after the war- a fate Draco himself had escaped due to Potter of all people.

_Potter. _Whenever he thought of Harry Potter he thought of the hero's friend, Granger, and the multiple times he had crossed paths with her alone. Oh, he remembered when their little battle began six years ago while learning to dance for the Yule Ball, all because he had held her too tightly. And all the times preceding that in which he had caused her harm on purpose.

She had been someone he had tried to force from his mind since fifth year- since he found Crabbe and Goyle about to harm her in the corridors. Sure, he had done the same thing on more than one occasion, but that was _him._ He would never go so far as to of killed the damn girl, but they would; he knew they could. Granger was someone who remained on his mind all the time.

Fifth year had been a hard one for him, one in which he began following a very dangerous path. It was the year things in his home life began to change, and the affects carried over into the life he led at school. Oh, he remembered Granger prying at his brain for answers as to why his demur had changed, but he would give her none. He did hate her then, after all.

_Now. You still hate the girl._

From that moment on, he had avoided her. Seeing Granger was like speaking with a reporter; question after prying question. He disliked her to begin with and having someone who shouldn't care one bit pry at his life had been too much. Whenever he spotted her- be it during a passing period or when they were alone- he hid. He would not deal with her, nor would he send a hex in her direction for he feared that the words he would say would be "_Avada Kedavra_". And killing the girl during school would be a bad idea indeed.

She had still been around during sixth year, and he recalled doing some things he regretted with her. None of them were life changing, they were simply things that were not the best choices. But at the time, they had seemed logical. Looking back, he didn't think so anymore.

Sixth year had been difficult, but seeing her during the war was worse. He didn't even want to think about that. Shaking his head, he took a long drag of his cigarette again.

_No matter what I do Granger you are on my mind. I never told you anything- never would've- so why do you haunt my thoughts? I don't understand._

He was thankful that fate had separated them for the most part during those years. They were times that were deadly, and had they ever been spotted together one or both of them would've died. Speaking to her had been a difficult task, one which he had not attempted to achieve. It just seemed that fate thought he should be speaking with her, no matter what.

And she had dug for the truth every way she could. So many times she had nearly seen his arms beneath the long shirts and unraveled so many horrors. Thankfully, magic was something he was excellent with and the sole time she did get a glimpse he erased it from her mind. It wasn't something he regretted.

He only wished that her curious nature would've pried elsewhere. He didn't need the additional stress of scaring her off- or hurting her, when matters called for such actions. Perhaps that was something he regretted.

_Hardly. You never felt anything when you caused her harm. The remorse just fell into the vortex that overtakes the space where your heart should be. You don't feel bad about anything._

He hit the cigarette. He didn't regret his actions one bit.

* * *

He woke in a sweat. His arm hurt like hell, and it was all he could do to keep from screaming out in pain. But that would alert his mother and father that their twenty year old son could not tolerate the lingering burn courtsey of the cursed Dark Mark. He rolled over and whimpered into the pillows.

Yes, pain was a daily horror Draco faced. Ever since Voldemort's demise the remains of the Dark Mark- of the picture of _perfection_ that his former Lord strived to create- had begun to burn. It started out as an irritation, but overtime the irritation became a full on burning sensation that could stop many former Death Eaters in their tracks as they tried to cope. It was as though the dark essence was slowly polluting them all.

The blonde didn't understand the phenomenon though, didn't care. When the pain came he was as useless as a Squib, whimpering until the pain ceased. He had attempted to have the tattoo removed so many times it was insane, and each time nothing good came out of his trials. Indeed, it seemed that the mark would be a lifelong burden, one which he was not entirely sure he wished to carry.

Crippled there on the bed, he found himself thinking of Granger as a tear slid down his cheek. A friend to his childhood enemy and the essence of everything he had once fought to destroy, she had been a unique person to collaborate with on occasion. He would even begrudgingly admit to helping her survive at one point in the war, something he had done out of the bloody goodness of his heart.

_As if that exists. _He hadn't seen Granger in person since the final battle, since he pulled her half alive body from beneath another and dragged her behind a corner to heal her wounds. He had never even waited for a thank you.

He could still hear her oddly concerned voice ringing in his head sometimes when the darkness around him set in and he allowed himself the glee of crying over the pain and losses he had experienced in his twenty years on Earth. Granger was constantly on his mind, constantly haunting his thoughts, and there was so much that had happened between them that no one else had ever learned about.

Sometimes he wondered why she hadn't put him in Azkaban for all of his abuse during their school years. _I was a right idiot as a child. _

* * *

Hermione Granger had come far in her life since the end of the war. Esteemed friend of Harry Potter, she had been offered every position imaginable in the magical world as a choice of work- even without a completed education. She thought it was wrong at first- immoral even- to accept things she had not earned. But in the end she had caved and accepted a job in the 'Magical Creatures' department of the Ministry. It was not nearly as showy as some of the jobs that she had been given the opportunity to take up, but it was something she strongly agreed with. The animals deserved to be protected and treated right- especially the House Elves that were treated so lowly and degraded often. That was possibly the main reason she had taken the position.

She had been married to Ron Weasley for nearly three years now. It was a rocky relationship that had more bad days than good. Sometimes she wondered how they remained together at all.

More often than not, she spotted a short article in the Daily Prophet talking about one of the Pureblood families who were still trying to claw their way back up into the highest most prestigious circles of society. And half the time they were about the Malfoy'. In her childless flat she shared with Ron- an Auror trainee _extraordinaire_- those articles always took her back to years before, when she had once gone against her friends and been nice to Malfoy on occasion because she was _concerned_. It took her back to a time when she was a child stuck in a war, when she had secretly dealt with problems concerning Malfoy on top of the war itself.

Hermione had never told anyone that she once sought to help the blonde, and she had never uttered a word about the few and far occurrences they shared together during the final years they attended Hogwarts's as well as the final battle. She would never dare bring up such things with her two best friends who may as well of started a _"We Hate Draco Malfoy"_ fan club in their early years at school. She doubted she would ever tell anyone.

But that didn't mean she couldn't think. Since saving her from Crabbe and Goyle that time in fifth year, he had never quite looked at her the same way. It was as though that set off a chain of unexplainable reactions inside the blonde that she never truly got to witness. He had saved her life during the final battle when she had sought throughout all of fifth and sixth year to keep him from throwing away his own. Yet he had ignored her help, ignored her words and logic and kept right on spiraling downward. Perhaps that was why she had given up on him by the time the real war came to them. Perhaps that was why she became stunned when he saved her from death while he left his friends' sides.

That man was a puzzle, one which might be missing several pieces. After two years, she had yet to figure him out. She of course had other things on her mind during that time, but he was a lingering thought that she could not get out of her head.

_Maybe I'm just not meant to understand the bloke. _

The floo in the living room roared to life, and Hermione peered over the bar dividing the living room and kitchen to see who was arriving. From the flames stepped Ron, who was looking just as unhappy as he always did these days. Walking out of the fireplace, he roughly brushed some imaginary dust off his shoulder.

Just from his expression she could tell that he was in a bad mood. "Rough day at word," she questioned as he stormed past, snatching up a pot of coffee. Sniffing it, he found that it was cold and chucked the item across the room before letting out a string of cuss words.

"That bad," she asked calmly when he has finished.

Snatching up a chair, he pulled it out and plopped down beside her at the pathetic dining room set. "Yes. _Another_ bloke decided it would be funny to play a trick on me-"

"Again?" Hermione asked, wincing. It was nothing new to her to hear that Ron was having a rough time at work- for he was not the best person at his job- but she knew it was hard on him. "You have to ignore them Ron. Most of the people you and Harry work with are at least five years older than either of you, and some of them don't take lightly to two new people coming in and taking high ranking positions- even if the two of you are famous."

The ginger just huffed. "Well, they don't have to be ba-"

"Ronald," she warned, narrowing her eyes into slits, "We have talked about this; please refrain from cursing in my presence. I ignored the string of words you let off moments ago hoping that was all, but can't we have a civilized conversation where neither of us have to use vile language?"

Her husband glared. He hated when she told him to use a _clean_ vocabulary. "No, we can't," he huffed, standing again and heading back the way he had come. "I'm going out Hermione; I need to blow off some steam. I'll be back soon." He grabbed some floo powder and was off before she could utter a word; not that she wanted to.

Once Ron was gone, she put her head down. The ginger was perfectly nice to her when calm, but he had a tendency to let the morons at work get the best of him. Indeed, Harry never received the same treatment for he had saved the world from a madman. No one questioned his position- but they did question Ron's, and of course it got to him. After months of the same pattern Hermione had given up any hopes of getting the ginger to calm down and simply let him go off to drink until he arrived home smashed. At least it kept the arguments down and allowed her time to think of what to do.

He really just needed to quit. He would be happier taking up a partnership with George, but she knew he wouldn't do that. Ron wanted a life of adventure and fame, not jokes.

Lifting her head, she attempted to try and read her work papers again. Was this really her life now? _Where did the time go?_


	7. Retrospect: Verbal

**A/n:** Another chapter looking at their school lives. This story might be moved to the (M) section but I want to know what you guys think so leave a review so I know ;) Well, enjoy! Thanks to my beta **loveinthemadness**! And as always, check me out on facebook! The link is up on my profile.

* * *

Sixth year was going to be a big one and Hermione knew it from the moment she stepped back into Hogwarts. The very likelihood of the school felt tense and a bit strained, as if the historical building itself knew bad things were coming. But that was just a fantasy of an observation from the depths of her mind, and she tried to not pay it too much thought. If she psyched herself out then things could be bad indeed. She needed to be there for Harry and remain level headed.

But that feat was proving difficult. Ron had been giving her the cold shoulder for days now, and just last night had made a very public statement that he had certain feelings for the house slut Lavender Brown. Hurt, she had spent the better part of the night crying- and Hermione Granger never cried. At the very least Harry was there for her.

Maybe there was something to her fantasy thinking. Maybe the school did know bad things were going to happen this year.

She was rushing down the hallway a few days later when she finally gave and collapsed by a window. Finding Ron and Lavender snogging each other's faces off in a broom closet had not been the best thing to see, and even with more important things going on she couldn't deny that it hurt. Just when she was finally ready to make it known to Ron that she did care about him as more than a friend he had to go and muck it up with that airhead of a girl! Hermione couldn't stand seeing them together.

She was drying a few freefalling tears when the shadow of a tall figure overcame her. Thinking it was Ron, she stood and turned to the person, screaming, "Don't even think about talking to me Ronald- Malfoy!?" The blonde was not who she expected to see.

If Draco Malfoy had looked downtrodden last year, then he was on his way to death this time around. There were so many bags under those gorgeous eyes of his that it made him look older than his sixteen years, and his usually shiny, healthy skin seemed to no longer hold a healthy glow. He was usually covered in expensive, impeccable black robes at all times, and that had not changed- only now he seemed a bit thin. Oh, he could still be considered menacing- but he wasn't as terrifying as one would remember. Hermione only remembered a few scarce occasions when he had truly scared her, and now she wasn't sure he could rattle her as much as before- although that really wasn't a bad thing.

"Don't ever mistake me for that ginger twat again!" he snapped, glaring down at her. Merlin, they had met so many times in the last few years under strange circumstances that even they didn't fully understand it anymore. They always found each other one way or the other, and usually things were not peaceful between them. But during fifth year those private meetings had been scarce. With Umbridge running around everywhere and his mind lost on what was happening at his home, he really hadn't gone on too many walks. Fourth year was a different story, and the two events following that dance class were brutal and brought on by him all because he would not be one-upped by her. But times had changed and more pressing matters had come to pass. He couldn't always dally in the ways to torture her. No, he needed to keep his focus on other things- like how to keep his family safe. It was a lot on a sixteen year old's shoulders.

She wiped her eyes again and crossed her arms. "No your right- I shouldn't compare the two of you. I might even like you more than _that_ boy at the moment." She brushed past him and made to leave the deserted area, but his hand gripped her shoulder a second later- there was material between them of course.

"Excuse me, Granger? Are you on something, or did you just say you prefer me to your lover boy?" He spun her around, cool eyes searching the depths of her own.

Hermione shoved him off her arm. "Look Malfoy, I don't owe you any sort of answers, but grow up and refer to Ron as something else than my _lover boy._ We aren't getting along right now, and that's all I'm saying."

"Trouble in paradise?" he asked, arching a pale eyebrow. Maybe he didn't care for her feelings, but he could always stand getting under the girl's skin.

She huffed. "Something to that extent. Now bugger off Malfoy, I have things to do."

"Sounds more like you want an excuse to get away from me so you don't have to talk about this," he mused, watching her eyes narrow. She really did seem put off by this conversation, but he could care less. He just wanted a rise out of her to entertain himself before he returned to his room. He needed anything at this point that would keep him in good spirits.

"Does it matter?!" she snapped, placing her hands on her hips. "It's a private matter Malfoy, and I will not be discussing it with the likes of you!" Turning on her heel, she stormed away from him, never seeing his smirk.

"Well, Granger," he called to her retreating form, "I must give you credit. For someone who seems to have had their heart crushed, you do a mighty fine job of putting up a good front. What was the name of the girl I saw your sweetheart snogging? And yes, I did see that; one of the more disgusting things I have witnessed in life."

"Stop talking," she said, but her movements had stalled. He smirked, knowing she was on the verge of breaking. She was mad, and he was only fueling her fire. But he couldn't help himself; he wanted to see her snap.

"Why? Does it bother you that everyone else can see them together as well? Remember Granger, the rest of the school can see how you react, even if you yourself cannot. You're hurt, and you hate them both, don't you?"

"How would you know if I feel that way," she growled, "When you yourself never feel anything?"

That statement got him to shut up for a moment. He could feel a great many things, all things that he would never tell her. He liked his icy exterior, for it kept most people away from him. As a child he used it as a form of superiority and gloated to all of his friends. As a teenager and near adult, he used it as a barricade to the real world. With all the things happening in his life, he needed that wall of protection now more than ever. But she wouldn't understand that. She might understand the need to have a way to protect yourself yes, but she would never accept that kind of answer from him. His icy personality would forever give her the illusion of a heartless person, unable to _feel_ anything. If she only knew how wrong she was about him.

_But I don't want her to know me that well. I don't want her to know me at all. _

"You assume so much Granger," he said at last, crossing his arms to her still turned back. "You assume I feel nothing, but I have to feel something. I wouldn't have left all of those marks on your skin if I didn't get some kind of rise out of it, right? Be it joy, amusement, sadistic love or anger, I had to feel something to edge me on to continue harming you, correct? So do not for a moment assume I feel nothing in this world, for you do not know me at all."

The brunette finally turned at those words, stomping back towards him. He thought she really did have the anger of a child, with her drawn together eyebrows and angry, balled up hands.

"You know what Malfoy, your right!" she hissed, stopping just in front of his towering form. He might not be as intimidating as he once was, but his sheer size remained the same. "You did bruise me, and I will believe you felt something. But guess what? You might like hurting me you might like seeing me squirm just because I am _lower _than you, but you can't win." She shook a finger at him. "You can't win this game of pain. You've been secretly hurting me for years-"

"I resent that statement Mudblood. If I remeber correctly I saved your neck from _my_ bodyguards when they broke your wrist. Do you recall?"

"Yes I do!" she spat, leveling her eyes with his the best she could. He stood several inches above her, and knew it too. He was attempting to use that height advantage to glare her down and get her to stop arguing, but so far it was not working. "What charming people you associate yourself with Ferret. I'm sure you would've felt oh so much regret if you had arrived a bit later and I was dead."

"Well, I suppose we'll never know, now will we?" He straightened his back, expecting that their little banter would end soon.

"No, we won't," she agreed, watching his eyes. "But _I_ do know this; you've hurt me on more than one occasion to prove a point, now I am going to prove another. You can hurt me as much as you physically want you blonde git, but you can't come out on the top. You can't hurt me emotionally because I don't care for you one bit- I wonder about you on occasion, but I have never cared." She took a step back. "Ron won that top spot."

He said nothing as she turned to go. Her eyes were wet again and he decided that normal female heartbreak he so often saw was setting in again; she would be crying in a moment no doubt. He stood with a tall back and crossed arms as she hurried away, never once uttering a single word. When she was gone, he peered out the window she had been sitting at. It was a strange feeling to be compared to the likes of the Weasel, especially in the sense that the idiotic ginger could actually hurt her worse than he did.

It was unsettling. Harming her was something he did only to get the point through that she was filth, that she need not continue to stand up to him and that he would not allow it. What had started out as the desire to best the other during a dance had become more than he liked to handle. She had insinuated that he liked to harm her, when in fact he didn't like to harm anyone. He didn't like the sight of blood, and although he had a dark mind the idea of harming someone outside of a bruising spectrum was too much for him to handle.

And on top of that, he didn't know the first thing about _how_ to harm someone emotionally. Sure, he knew what it was like _to be _harmed emotionally as well as physically, but he didn't know how to return what he received. Besides with his mother, Draco had never had an emotional connection with anyone. He didn't do connections, because once you felt that there was a link between you and someone else it set you up to be more vulnerable, and he despised being vulnerable.

Glancing around to be sure no one was coming in his direction; he pulled back the sleeve of his school robes. Hidden beneath the expensive black material- he had his hand made of course- was the Dark Mark. This was a tattoo he could certainly live without, but now that he was tasked with important deeds to fulfill for the dark Lord, he worried that he would forever be answering to that design. Getting the mark was painful, and being called through it was just as bad. He did not like the situation he was in.

His fingers came down to trace the design. Surrounding the intricate work were the remains of wounds- both inflicted on him and self-inflicted- that would mar his skin forever. They didn't reside solely on his arm, and Draco had the dangerous scars of his past to prove that just because he was a Malfoy did not mean he lived a full life of luxury. He had his pains too- not the emotional pains that Granger seemed to have, but physical ones that were probably worse than anything she had ever experienced before.

They might inflict pain on each other occasionally, but they both knew different sorts of pain that the other had never experienced before. They were a strange combination; a strange combination indeed. Draco pulled his sleeve back down. He had a date with a cabinet still, and if he did not find a way to ensure that the Death Eaters could come through the vanishing cabinet, Voldemort would have his head as well as his mother's.

Draco turned and continued on his way. Granger's petty relationship problems were nothing compared to his emotional turmoil over his mother's life, but he couldn't erase her pain from his mind. He had never loved someone, or even liked a person outside of the physical sense and animalistic need. He didn't understand why she hurt so much.

He didn't want to.

* * *

The next time they met, it was only a few days later. The corridor was different, but the setting was much the same. He found her instead of the other way around, but this time she was not crying. No, she was firing spell after spell at the unfortunate wall before her.

It took a moment before she ever heard his voice. "What!?" she screamed, turning to glare at him. The blonde was caught off guard at how angry she looked.

"Granger, why are you in such a fit? Oh wait, is it about that Brown girl and your unfortunate ginger friend again?"

"Shut up Malfoy," she seethed, turning to hex the poor stone again. Part of the spell bounced back at them and nearly turned both students green. Fortunately, they had fast reflex skills.

"Oh Granger, you must move past this petty hate. You seem rather angry for your usual calm nature lately, and I must say it is tiresome to come across so much."

She turned to him, pointing her wand as she walked towards him. "Would you just be quiet Malfoy? I came here to get away not to be bothered by y_ou_!"

Malfoy held his hands up. "Would you put that thing down? And while you're at it, throw yourself into the floor. It'll hurt and hopefully it will calm you obnoxious temper."

The girl glared at him. "Get out of here Malfoy. You disturbed me the last time I tried to find peace someplace and you will not do it again! Leave me be."

He only smirked before he took a few steps over to her. Stopping in front of the enraged female, he made sure to be extra careful with his wording since he knew he was pulling at dangerous threads. Shoving all his racist thoughts aside for the sole purpose of creeping her out, he brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. She shuddered at his touch.

Hopefully, his next sentence would get her to rethink how awful the redhead was. If he ran across her one more time like this he assumed he would explode and do something stupid. Leaning in close, he breathed on her face, "Don't take his actions so hard Granger. You're letting him win by being so worked up over things, aren't you?"

She was certainly surprised by the words coming out of his mouth. "Malfoy-"

"But don't think he's wrong to move onto the next pretty thing Granger. Men are animalistic, and usually go for the easiest thing they see. Drop your self-respect and I'm sure he'll come running right back."

Her jaw hit the floor and he suppressed a chuckle as he shoved by her. At least she would be stuck thinking about what he was saying she should do for a bit instead of the Gryffindor couple that insisted upon flaunting their relationship in front of everyone. Shoving his hands into his pockets, he gave himself a silent pat on the back. Verbal abuse sometimes did wonders.

* * *

**A/n: **Review? I would love to know what you think!


	8. Aftermath: Lip

**A/n:** Here's another present life look! A bit of drama and if you haven't noticed yes this is in the M section now, and will remain there. Well, enjoy! Thanks to my beta **loveinthemadness**! And as always, check me out on facebook! The link is up on my profile.

* * *

Draco kept his hands in his pockets as he walked. This section of magical London was known for having bad people around, and although he fit the definition of _bad_ it did not mean he was safe among those around him. He was a Malfoy with money, a terror and an ex-Death Eater. There were many people even here who would like him dead. But he kept his head held high and walked through the streets as though he feared nothing at all.

The truth was another matter entirely. He worried that any moment one of those men would turn and start a fight. Dueling he was excellent in, but although he had a defined body he had long since stopped using his fists to hit things. He had the strength to fight off an attacker he just wasn't sure if he had the coordination to last long in a physical fight, and that made him weary. Indeed, even Blaise Zabini- whose upper body was lacking substantially- knew how to fight better than he did. It was almost embarrassing.

But that was not the reason he currently wandered those streets. He had something to pick up; a rare and illegal item that he often purchased here. His travels into this area were not unheard of, but only the shopkeeper knew what he came for- and if money could buy anything, like _silence_, he would continue to bribe the man. For an old bloke, he certainly was unpleasant.

Entering his designated area he paid for what he needed quickly and exchanged few words. Making his way out of the store he thought he spied someone ducking into an alley and he paused. That never meant anything good. Going against his better instincts he turned and decided to peer into the area and see what was going on. The action could very well get him into trouble quickly, but he was curious by nature and just had to look around.

He didn't expect to see the person he did. Bushy brown hair, short fit frame, the girl was unmistakable; that bloody hair stood out in a crowd. He raised a blonde eyebrow as she continued to attempt to open the door to a shop with her wand. The hideous brown jacket she had thrown on that day was an uglier shade of her hair, with patches to match. What a pathetic sight.

"Are you going to try and jimmy that door all day," he drawled, leaning against the wall. Startled, the girl jumped away from the door and spun to look at him. It was indeed Hermione Granger, but something was wrong. He could not recall the last time he caught sight of her with a split lip like that, and it caused him to frown.

Her expression hardened as she realized who had spoken to her. "Go away," she muttered, turning back to her task. It had been weeks since Ron was last calm after returning from work, bordering on months at this point. She had been coming to this place for a while, and had never once seen the blonde before. What he was doing there was beyond her, but she sincerely hoped he did not plan to hang around long. She had things to do.

"Touché," he snapped, watching her steadily. "I realize we haven't spoken in a long time Granger, but you owe me the courtesy of saying hello. I saved your life once and you never even thanked me."

She glanced over her shoulder. "Thanks, but can we do this some other time Malfoy? Chatting with former enemies is quite fun, but I really have places to be." She finally got the door open and nodded her head in his direction as a form of goodbye. He would have none of that. It had been years since they talked and the woman was forever on his mind; this conversation was not over. Hurrying forward, he snatched up her arm, causing her to turn and glare at him, her body just inside the door. The space was dark and he was unfamiliar with this place entirely.

"You're so quick to end conversations Granger," he said, "Like you always have been. Why do you constantly refuse to speak with me?"

"Constantly? We haven't spoken in years Malfoy. I don't know what delusion you are living in, but it's been a long time since we have had a conversation at all." She tugged herself free from his grasp. "I owe you no answers to what I am doing, or why I used to push you away. Merlin, you pried into my life even without my answers, so what's the difference here? I'll tell you- there is none. Now leave me alone."

He stepped in her way. "This is a dangerous place Granger, a dangerous part of London. It's full of dark magic and rogue Death Eaters. Whatever would someone like you be doing here? Don't you work in the Ministry someplace?"

"I don't see how it really matters to you, but yes, I work in the Ministry. Now why don't you go about your business and I'll go about mine."

Draco huffed. "Stubborn girl," he muttered, moving aside. She nodded once more before disappearing into the dark space, letting the door fall shut behind her. It was unusual for the blonde to allow her to go so easily, but at the moment he thought it was the best choice. They hadn't spoken in years, so why dig up old problems? She had married the Weasel and was seemingly happy with her life, while he was miserable in his. They were polar opposites, and it was childish to go about things like he had been. He had to be mature and ask her questions that made her think about the hidden meaning, not riddles created to distract her.

_It was Hermione Granger; she isn't even important._ He shoved his hands into his pockets. Split lip or not, he didn't need to be thinking about her. She had only drawn his attention because of her entrance into the alley and the blood leaking from the split. He couldn't imagine where the mark came from, but her ginger counterpart did not come across as abusive.

_Now you're just dwelling on her. Stop focusing on the girl! She isn't important to you!_

He walked away from the door. They never spoke, they never really crossed paths either. This was a fluke meeting, and he doubted he would cross paths with the girl again. No, Granger was no longer someone he should focus on, and he began to shake his head as he walked away.

_Besides, she was always marked; you left enough bruises on her to know that it's easy. She probably fell and split her lip._

* * *

She arrived home late, as she had been recently. She worked two jobs now to stay afloat, what with her _beloved_ husband to busy pitying himself to work. Over the last several months the words of his co-workers had really gotten to him and he had all but given up. Now he spent his time at the local pub down the street drinking, gambling, and playing games. Whenever he did go into work the people around him could often figure out what he had been up to and critiqued him further. Harry's defensive remarks on his friend's behalf only lasted for so long and only kept the people at bay for a while. They would never disrespect him, but Ron was disrespecting himself and that was a whole other story. If he was going to be a jerk, a moron, then none of them pitied him. But then, none of them pitied him to begin with; it had all been hate.

Hermione worked in the same building as her husband, during the day. When he did come to work and chose to be disruptive, rude, or moronic, she often heard about the occurrence from someone throughout the day. Often it was from Harry or her secretary, but each time something new was brought up she ducked her head. He was being quite embarrassing these days.

The bad days outnumbered the good twenty-to-one now. Everything was slowly going downhill between them and she had yet to be able to get through to him that by acting this way he was causing his own life to fall apart. Money did not come in the same abundance it once did, and he had long since used up their combined war funds. A comfortable house, expensive accessories that looked to lavish to belong to either of the occupants, and tons of alcohol. She hated his habits, but nothing she did could make him listen to her. He had stopped taking her advice ages ago.

There was no one to greet her when she arrived at the late hour. Ron was probably still out drinking his life away, and they had yet to try for a child and succeed. She got the feeling that children were simply not something he wanted, but she rarely understood him anymore. At least she could be thankful that there were no little ones in the house to see their father act so horribly. That was the only benefit of still being childless.

She counted up her proceeds again for the night. It wasn't enough to cover the rent again, and even with her official job it would be hard to make things meet again this month. Sure, Harry was always around in case they were ever in a really tight spot, but that was not a route she wanted to go. Harry was a friend, not a bank. She didn't want to take his money and feel like she needed the help, even though she did. With a sigh, she set her head on the table.

Life just kept throwing more curves at her. The money, the careless husband, and suddenly Malfoy too? Try as she may she could not get the bloke out of her mind from earlier. His appearance had nearly stopped her heart. Merlin, she didn't want anyone finding out she had to do some side work to make ends meet! And he had nearly seen where she was going. It was a bad, dangerous area, but all the people there kept their mouths shut because they were either illegal or ashamed to be in the place. That was the only reason she went there at all, because none of her friends would find out.

She heard the fireplace roar to life and the sound of grumbling as her husband finally returned. Lifting her head she glared in his direction. He looked drunk as ever, and took several uneven steps out of the fireplace as he walked over to her. A frown crossed his face as he neared.

"Your lip is cut," he said, stopping in front of her. Clumsy fingers came down to rub the split lip she had adopted earlier and she shoved his hand away.

"I'm glad you noticed," she snapped in return, "Since you are never around to notice much else." Standing, she flicked her wand and picked up her money, shoving past him.

"Where did all the money come from Hermioneeeeeee," he asked, dragging out the end of her name. She could only roll her eyes as he followed her into the next room. "You don't get paid for a while, do you?"

She refused to turn around and instead began moving things around. The bedroom was a mess, but it had been ages since they slept in it together. "Does it matter Ronald? It will pay the bills you no longer help with." She sat on the bed, setting the wallet filled with money onto a table as she undid her shoes.

"I help-"

"No, you drink," she interrupted, glaring at him through her hair, "And that's all. Don't you dare tell me you help with the bills when you rarely entertain the idea of even going to work." She shook her head, looking down again. "Go to sleep. We have nothing to talk about."

The silence in the room was suffocating as the pair got ready to sleep. When he finally laid down and fell into unconsciousness, she took that as a sign. Getting up, she placed the money into a safe-book she had fashioned for this exact reason, before glancing back at the bed. It was unnatural to sleep beside him anymore. With a sigh, she picked up her pillow and a loose blanket. It seemed she would be sleeping on the couch tonight since there was a stranger in her bed.

* * *

Draco returned to that same place over the next three days searching for the former Gryffindor. Why ever she chose to frequent this place was beyond him, but he was determined to figure out why. After studying the scene, he had finally found what he could only assume was the front door to the establishment. It was a surprise to find that it was a pub, and that only spiked his interest further.

_Granger is frequenting pubs now? My, I wonder what drove her to this extreme. _

For three days, he saw no sigh of her. He inquired about her to a bartender who only explained that he was not allowed to release such information. The scantily clad women on the stage only caused his curiosity to grow. She had more respect for herself than to become a dancer, didn't she?

The fourth day he was beginning to give up hope of seeing her again. The Dark Mark was still causing him a lot of pain, and wasting his days in this place seemed completely useless. He had only bought two drinks so far that day when he finally decided enough was enough and stood to leave. He would have to just wonder about her hobbies in this dark part of town.

He turned and bumped into a woman. Today she had a bruise on her cheek, and his eyes widened a fraction as he took in her face.

"Ah, Granger, I've been looking for you."


	9. Aftermath: Men

**A/n:** This is super late and I can't tell you how sorry I am. School and life attacked me, and I finally got around to posting another update. Warning though- there may be another gap until after the holidays, depending on whether or not I have to rush out of state. Anyways, I hope you enjoy the chapter! Thanks to my beta **loveinthemadness**! And as always, check me out on facebook! The link is up on my profile.

* * *

She felt her jaw drop as she realized who exactly was standing in front of her. This was someone that had seen her getting into the bar days before, and now he saw her at work. She blushed, dropping her head a degree. The flattering top and shorts didn't give off the impression of a stripper- all of who wore little more than bra tops and thongs at this point. Even being in the same building as him just then was an embarrassment. Merlin, she knew how many of those women thought he was just _delicious_, and the fact that they could spot her with him at any moment was horrifying.

"Did you get into a fight with something?" he continued, brushing a thumb over her cheek. She flinched at the rough contact.

"No," she said flatly, offering no other explanation. "What are you doing in here Malfoy? I've never seen you around before."

"Except the last time you saw me outside you mean?" he inquired, leaning back against the bar. The man at his side glanced over his shoulder, and she cringed as she recognized him. "I never expected you to frequent places like this. It's a bit shady, don't you agree?"

Her expression hardened again, and she looked away from the man as he waved from behind the blonde. "Don't try and spew me any fake concern Malfoy, because I won't buy it. If you are so curious about my work then please, sit and stare all you want. It's quite uninteresting really, but fuck- you sought me out. You must have no life anymore if you are prying into mine." Without giving either man another glance, she turned on her heel and stalked away. He noted that unlike the scantily clad dancers on stage she wore a skirt at modest length and a fairly covering shirt. Arching an eyebrow, he couldn't help wondering if that was only a cover.

He barely paid the other man any attention as he sat down, calling for the bartender to get him another drink. But the man's eyes followed the blonde's very movements as he received his drink and threw too much money back onto the bar as payment. Turning back to face the room, Malfoy spoke, "Do you plan to watch me all bloody day? There are plenty of women here; if you're not into that, then go to a gay bar."

Offended, the mystery man turned in his chair as well to look out at the pub. Years of growth and war had changed the way he carried himself, from his build to his once short hair. But Draco could place this man through his accent as someone he had attended school with long ago, a person that resided in an enemy house, just like Granger.

"Do you plan to watch her all night? I remember you being a right bastard to her in school, and you can't plan to be nice to her now either."

Thick Irish accent; he was a friend of Potter's. Sliding his eyes to the side, he cocked his head just slightly. "We went to school together."

"Aye, surprised you even remember me. You never bothered me as much as you bothered Hermione- or Harry even."

"Yes well, some people drew my attention more than others," he said tightly, shifting his eyes back to the room again. He caught sight of thick brown hair walking among the crowd, and realized it had to be Granger. She was carrying a tray, and he arched an eyebrow. So she had enough modesty to at least keep her clothing on in front of these twisted blokes; how charming.

"Like her?" he asked, inclining his head towards the bobbing brunette girl moving through the pub. "You came looking for her specifically, after all."

"No, I came to see what Granger thought she could succeed at in this shady neighborhood in a bar like this. She herself isn't very interesting to me."

Seamus Finnigan chuckled, taking the offered glass that the bartender handed him. "Keep telling yourself that, Malfoy, and perhaps you will not frequent this area so."

Draco slid his eyes back over to the Irishman, who still sat calmly sipping his drink. "Don't start lecturing me about coming here. You are here as well, and you know her on more personal levels than I do."

"Personal?" he asked, tilting his head.

"You're friends with the Mudblood!" he spat, shaking his head. At this, Finnigan's eyes darkened.

"Don't be throwing those terms around here Malfoy; there is danger in blood stature still, despite everything. We don't need to be getting her into trouble."

To this, Malfoy chuckled. "A bit worried about her I see. Those are big words for someone who is watching her just as closely as I am."

"True, but you see Malfoy- she at least appreciates my eyes. While your gaze holds danger, mine does not."

"Don't speak in riddles, it's unbecoming." By this time, Draco had realized he had absolutely no idea what this bloke's name was, but he wasn't about to ask him for it after their constant bickering. "What are you trying to say? Are you watching her for someone?"

"Malfoy, I owe you no answers. The reasons I watch her do not concern you, unless you become a problem. As you can see," Seamus continued, beckoning out towards the crowd, "She is no dancer, no skank. If you were hoping for a show, you shall be disappointed."

"And if I just came to see what was happening? It's not often you see a proclaimed war hero strutting around the most dangerous parts of Britain- alone."

"She's not alone, and you should do well to remember it." Finnigan sipped his drink, ignoring the way Draco continued to look at him through the corners of his eyes.

"What did you say your name was?"

"I didn't," he deadpanned, downing the end of his drink. Slamming the empty glass on the counter, he stood. "I'm not entirely sure why you search her out, Malfoy, but I can assure you trouble won't be tolerated. I may not be Potter or Weasley, but I am a friend. Remember that Hermione is not coming here alone." With that, he stalked away, not waiting for the blonde to reply. From his seat, Draco watched the Irishman walk up to Granger and whisper in her ear. They glanced only briefly at him before disappearing to the right and through a set of doors marked _"Employees Only"_.

Draco finished his drink in silence. He knew that the brunette had a relationship with that deadweight Weasel, so the fact that this man appeared from nowhere, drew him in. Why, if Granger was in a healthy relationship, did she need a bodyguard to help her at a pub?

_Why would Granger of all people want a bodyguard at all?_

* * *

It haunted him, throughout the night and the following day; just what secrets did Granger have? They hadn't had a decent conversation in years, and even those meetings couldn't be considered civil, save one. Sitting in his room the next night, his scar beginning to flare up in pain, he couldn't help contemplating that damn girl.

_What would make Granger sink so low as to work as a waitress in that shady bar?_

He had considered the idea more than once to do a bit of research, but that seemed foolish. Why would he want to research the girl's life when he barely had one himself? He should be going to bars himself- better, more exclusive bars- and finding himself a little honey each and every night. But instead he sat alone in the same room, with the same wallpaper, hating himself more and more each day.

What was life if you couldn't do anything with it? He could only think about the bad things in his world, the way things worked out with his parents, and the few estranged friendships he had barely managed to hold on to. Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott remained the soul connections he had left to keep him dredging on through his bleak existence, but even they were fading. The three only spoke on occasion, and even less often did they all speak together. Theo was depressed, Blaise a drinker, and Draco himself was a smoker. They each had their own methods of coping, and the restrictive Pureblood society to thank for their unwillingness to share emotions. Perhaps if they would talk with open minds, they could help each other, instead of just watching each other slip through the cracks to the ultimate end.

He hit the cigarette in his hand, ignoring how much it hurt his chest. His friends were unable to help him, to keep his thoughts of the bad things surrounding him, yet Granger could somehow preoccupy his mind for minutes at a time. He couldn't understand why someone with such purpose and possibility as she would lower herself to working in such dangerous conditions. He had wanted to ask her about the bruise- he could've asked her elusive bodyguard as well- but he didn't. There was a mystery surrounding Granger's present life that he wanted to delve into. He wanted something to distract him from the emptiness in his life.

Standing, he hit the shelf nearby, reveling at the pain waves it sent coursing through his arm. He needed to be able to feel something other than the biting emptiness taking over his body, and if pain would replace that empty feeling he could gladly accept that. How many dents rested in his walls due to his own hand? How many times had he struck out at something simply to see if it would make him cry? He couldn't seem to ever find something that allowed him to feel whole, to completely erase the empty feeling.

Putting out his cigarette, he began to pace. Hitting the shelf brought him back to Granger again, and her bruised cheek. Was her supposed body guard letting his hand slip against her? Or perhaps that was all due to the caring Weasel at home, who had slipped so far from the pedestal he longed to stand on. Or perhaps it was a rogue costumer; a seemingly harmless body that stuck out at her because she wouldn't give something. He couldn't be sure.

_But I want to know. Dammit Granger, at least you can distract my mind. At least sometimes I get stuck thinking about the very puzzle of your existence enough that I can remove myself from my body and focus on other things, other people. My parents are obsolete, completely useless now. They are slipping through the same cracks I am, and yet none of us will do anything to save the others. Our family bond was severed years ago._

_Hermione Granger; how you haunt my thoughts. Something about you isn't right; you live a life that should be so simple, yet you appear so weighed down. What could possibly be causing Gryffindor's princess to search in dark places? You have a dirty little secret you are keeping, something you don't want many to know I'm sure, but I want to know everything._

_You owe me Mudblood. I saved you once, now you're going to have to save me._

* * *

Hermione counted up the day's earnings that night on her couch. There wasn't as much as the day before, but she couldn't do much about that. She didn't want to bear everything to the crowded bar for men to ogle over, but she wasn't making enough income this way. Being a dancer had its benefits as far as money was concerned, but she would not stoop that low.

After work tomorrow, it appeared that she would be back at the bar, Seamus at her side. It wasn't a planned agreement that formed between them- rather than an accidental one. Back when she first started side work to gain the extra income that was needed; she crossed paths with her old schoolmate. He rarely spoke to Harry or Ron anymore, and attended a high class university in upper Britain. He enjoyed it, and had only been purchasing a single item the day he saw her entering the sketchy place. Curious, he followed. And when things got out of hand with an exceptionally drunk customer, he offered her his services. Ever defiant, she had shot him down for weeks. But he noticed within that time that she gained many small- but noticeable- marks, and it didn't sit well with the boy. They may not have been best mates in school, but they had known each other well. He had guessed correctly that everyone else knew nothing about what she was doing, for he knew they would not stand for it. She only agreed to him playing the part of a guard to keep him from saying anything. And thus their odd agreement had begun.

But seeing Draco Malfoy there had sent her stomach flipping. He was prying if he had begun frequenting the bar- for even he pointed out that it was a dirty place- and that worried her. The last time he had taken an interest in her well-being, things had gotten exceptionally complicated. The last thing she needed was him following her around there was well.

Sitting down in front of the mirror, she removed her concealment charm and glanced at the bruise. It was beginning to heal, but the memory of receiving it still left a funny feeling in her stomach. It had been an unsettling occurrence, but nothing she couldn't handle. She had been through worse.

Now however, the mark made her think of Malfoy. He had spent many years leaving the same sort of marks on her skin without a thought, and she had just as readily left them on him to show that he could not best her. But she was no longer a child, and those kinds of marks stood for more than just vicious games.

_Nothing is a game anymore. _


	10. Retrospect: Word

**A/n:** I find it hard to write new chapters for this story. It's not that I don't have ideas, I just can't seem to convey what I want to post in an interesting way and I'm always rewriting things so that it doesn't come off sounding ridiculous. Thus, this post is late (again). You may be angry now, but at least I'm not giving up! Thanks to my beta **loveinthemadness**! And as always, check me out on facebook! The link is up on my profile.

* * *

It was not pleasant at Hogwarts to begin with for Draco that seventh year, and he did not remain there long. His father's anger and obnoxious loyalty to the sinister Dark Lord Voldemort drew him back to his ancestral home quickly after his last year of schooling began; Snape was Headmaster, and with so many dark wizards teaching, he had hoped the year would be both interesting and away from the direct lines of war. However Voldemort had other intentions for him, and he now resided back in his manor like an unhappy prisoner.

The gashes in his skin were obvious, and though the marks made his mother weep when she found anything new, he never shed a tear. He could not allow the physical pains to get to him else he would break, and to break would mean to forfeit his life. The dark Lord did not take lightly to those who were weak- so weak was unacceptable. Between the dark Lord's spells and his father's 'lessons' he wondered if he would survive the rest of the year, or even ever see the dark glow of a bloody battlefield. The mere idea of death made his skin crawl, and he almost hoped he would be pushed to the side as a secondhand pawn and forgotten while battles came forth.

He was skilled, but he would never be a killer. He didn't have that in him, and if he didn't kill on the battlefield one of his own may just take him out for being a coward. There were few paths ahead of him that would actually result in his survival, and it was that glimmer of hope that convinced him to get out of bed in the mornings and face another wretched day.

That and his mother's quiet sobs from next door. His parents had never shared a bedroom until recently, since Voldemort took over his father's room as his own and Draco's mother's room had become yet another place for the countless Death Eaters to rest. He in turn lost his real room to them, and now slept just across the hall in a room he had always owned but only used to store things. Now it was a sanctuary; a calm place in the middle of hell.

And as it was, he believed very little could make this hell worse. Many of his friends were either relishing in the dark arts or hiding in the shadows like him, and there were so many eyes and ears within the structure all the time that few places permitted privacy to talk. Pansy and Blaise were the only ones he dared to speak to, and Pansy was practically impossible. Bad things had been whispered throughout the halls since he and Blaise took her in a room alone to talk, and since then the boys had kept their distances from the female. She got enough shit for that day, and they knew she had problems now. If something could be done about that, they would help, but for now they couldn't even help themselves.

That was why his heart sank when dear Aunt Bella called him downstairs one day because she wanted him to inspect someone. He had been called to do the same thing few times before, and if that person was deemed unimportant then they were immediately killed by the twisted witch. This was not something he would look forward to.

It ended up being worse than he first expected. Not only did he lie to save Potter's sorry arse, but he got the pleasure of escorting the moron and his ginger friend downstairs into a holding cell, only to return to witness his aunt torturing the know-it-all brunette that sometimes appeared in his nightmares. He attempted to pay as little attention as possible to her whimpers and cries, but it was difficult when the sounds echoed in the large Manor.

He didn't notice when Bella finally got off the shivering girl until she began addressing him and his parents. "I'm making no headway with her, and the Dark Lord will be most displeased to hear this." She glanced at him, and he immediately knew whatever she said next would not be good.

"Draco," she cooed, walking closer to her nephew. He knew that tone very well, and understood he was about to be assigned something very unpleasant. "Be a good boy and prove your worth- take her into your room and get what I need from her. I don't care what you do or how you do it, just get me something!"

He resisted the urge to flinch. She may as well be telling him to force himself on her if she didn't give something up, but he couldn't fathom the idea of doing that any more than death. Nodding he moved past her and grabbed the girl, hauling her to her feet by one arm and dragged her away. He wasn't quite sure what his parents were thinking by then, but he didn't care. He needed to think on his feet and discover something he could do in order to get her away. A dead Granger would haunt his dreams more than an alive one.

Since his room was nearby, he had no problem moving her there and tossing the girl inside. She kicked at him- since she was now wandless- screaming at him to stay away.

"Shut up, Granger!" he hissed, rubbing his head. "If I planned to fucking hurt you, you'd be bound by now." The blonde shook his head then, watching her glare at him through slitted eyes. "And don't continue with that infernal screaming- the people here are going to believe I've already done sinister things to you, and you've only been in here a moment."

Her glare did not ease, and the harsh look on her face on made him think of all those times she had gotten angry at him for their fights in school. Bruising moments that carried through both of their memories, and now would seem like the ideal moment to inflict more wounds, yet he sounded like he was going to pass up the chance.

"You've contradicted yourself in that sentence," she muttered, sitting up to clutch at the new scar on her arm. His eyes glanced there for a moment, but another hard look on her part caused him to advert his eyes. "You say you haven't done sinister things to me _yet_, but then you began by saying you won't fucking hurt me. What do you really intend to do, Malfoy? If you have so quickly forgotten, I just got to be interrogated by your aunt, so I doubt you can do anything worse."

"Fuck you, Granger," he remarked, turning away as a hand came up to fist his own hair. "I don't plan to do anything to you! It's all Bella's idea to have me try and break you. You're just lucky she appointed this task to me and not my father or uncle or anyone else, for they would not hesitate to test all venues of _torture _to persuade you to speak." He turned back, again noticing her shiver, this time at his words.

"Then what do you plan to do? I doubt any of the Death Eaters will be forgiving or understanding if I leave here with no more marks than I entered with. I don't see why you intend to be gentle towards me, since you will only be costing yourself."

He chuckled darkly. "I realized that already." Pacing the length of the room, he rightly ignored her eyes following him as he thought. It would be easy to leave some marks, declare that she was being a stubborn bitch and send her on her way to meet more horrors in another room. But the idea of casting someone off to suffer unimaginable fates ate at his coscience, and no matter what he couldn't convince himself it was right- even if this was _just _Granger.

"What are you doing here?" he finally said, pausing in front of her. She had moved to sit on his table, and he had half a mind to tell her to get off but resisted. It wouldn't do any good at this point, even if he did worry about her dirty skin touching his things. "Don't tell me you and the rest of your little trio fell into the hands of the Death Eaters so easily; you're smarter than that."

The brunette scoffed, shoving her hair away from her face to address him. When she finally spoke, there was nothing but venom in her voice. "Scabior and his group brought us here after chasing us through the woods."

"Yes, he isn't the kindest man, now is he?"

She looked away, refusing to give him a response. As the silence stretched on, she dared to voice another question. "Why didn't you immediately tell your aunt it was Harry?"

"Don't ask inferior questions right now; they will only waste time." He resumed pacing the room, rubbing his face as he walked. "If you and your bloody friends remain here until Voldemort arrives its over for us all. There will be no grand futures for anyone."

Hermione finally picked her head up and met his gaze straight on. "Are you saying you don't want your lord to win?" she inquired, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm saying it won't bring me an extremely positive future!" he snapped. "You need to get out."

She stood, throwing her arms out. "You have got to be joking!"

"Beg pardon?"

The girl began walking towards him. "You have been leaving marks on me for three years! You've been practically giddy about it. And now you have the perfect opportunity to hurt me to your heart's desire, and you turn it down? Something isn't right here."

He recalled the welts on his arms and torso and unconsciously grabbed at the sleeves of his shirt with his fingers, insistent on hiding his skin. "I've been through many things recently that have changed my perception of bruises and marks. I'm not going to give you a long story Granger; you don't deserve one."

She huffed, looking away again.

"You do have to get away though, and soon. Bella will come searching momentairly." He rubbed his head, looking away as well. "Grink!"

She jumped lightly as an elf appeared, the poor creature looking frightened about being called. Hermione immediately opened her mouth to complain about house elves as always, but he never gave her a chance to speak.

"Take her downstairs to the cells; take her to her fucking friends. Don't get caught, and _don't_ draw attention. Take them where ever they need to go, but do not remain once they arrive. They will be on their own from there." He met her eyes.

The brunette took a step towards him. "You have nothing to gain from helping us," she said quietly.

"Actually, I do. If I didn't see something for me out of this deal I would've thrown you around a bit and then handed you back to my aunt." He advanced towards her as well. "You are nothing to me Granger, except something to use to my own benefit." Her gaze hardened a bit at this. "Grink?"

"Yes, Master?"

"You will tell no one of this. Take her downstairs, now." The elf walked up and grasped her hand, but her eyes remained fixated on the blonde boy before her.

"They will be angry with you."

"I'm quite aware. I have a plan though, and you will do well to mention none of this to your two boy toys downstairs. They will assume there is something between us- which is of course bollocks." He waved her off. "Go before we are caught.

She took a step away from him, still hesitant with the plan. If anything went wrong they would all be killed- except Harry, who she was sure would be saved for Voldemort specifically. They exchanged no more words, and he watched with dead eyes as the pair disappeared.

"Crink," he called, summoning a much more personal house elf. The creature appeared where Granger and Grink had been only a moment ago, looking a bit less frightened but just as mistreated.

"Yes, Master?"

He nodded towards his shelves. "Take that bottle and break it over my head; I want you to hit me until I can't recall what I've done."

The elf's eyes widened to a horrified degree. "Master! Crink could never harm-"

"If you refuse to harm me, Crink, and stage a half-decent scene, then Bella will only have to peer through my mind, upon her return, to see my lies. If I can't remember what I've just done, then there will be nothing for her to discover."

The small, little creature still looked terrified, but brought the glass bottle to him nonetheless. "Master will bleed."

"I'm aware. Do not clean me up once you've finished; Bella will be along soon, and she will either heal me to figure out what happened, or let me die while I'm unconscious." He shrugged. "Either way, it works for me. Now, do it before I am caught in the act."

Crink nodded, and Draco politely crouched down to his level to give him a better angle. As the bottle was raised, he spoke once more. "And Crink?"

"Yes Master?"

"You will tell no one of this conversation or events, ever." The elf nodded, and Draco beckoned for him to proceed. With scared eyes he raised the bottle and obediently struck the blonde over the head. It hurt and crumbled him a bit, but he didn't protest. It didn't take much to cause jets of pain to rocket around his head and send him into the ground. He relished when the pain subsided and the darkness took over.

He would pay for this later when his father heard of his failure, but just then he didn't care. He liked the darkness as it set in, drawing him from reality for a little while.

Or perhaps forever, but he doubted he would get a free ride out of this hell that easily. It would only be a matter of time before he was forced to rejoin the conscious world again.


	11. Aftermath: Quiet

**A/n: **Hello readers! I have bad news. To make a long story short, my family had a money problem and we sold a lot of things, including computers. Therefore I can only update at my boyfriend's, and write there too. So chapters may be slower for a while until things get worked out. Sorry! Thanks to my beta **loveinthemadness**! And as always, check me out on facebook! The link is up on my profile.

* * *

Breakfast at Malfoy Manor had never been a pleasant affair. During school the mornings were a mystery to Draco, and the summers brought nothing but talk of what was expected of him, and war. His father would often dominate the entire conversation, his mother would say nothing, and the answers he was to give were not from his own mind, but what his father expected him to say. It was a bitter time, and dinners often brought with them the presence of unwanted guests like Bellatrix.

Now however, the meals themselves were different. He knew his parents had always had an estranged marriage, but since Lucius had been released from the hell that was Azkaban, his mother avoided his father all together. Indeed, years under the hand of Lucius had taught Narcissa to not speak out against her husband, and eventually, to fear him. During the last two years, Draco had sat entirely alone at the vast table, eating in silence.

Lucius was not as afraid of the world as Narcissa however, and often ventured around his part of the Manor, occasionally stepping into the dining room. Draco rarely saw the man do this, but often noted that he never went in there when his own son was present. Azkaban had warped both of his parents' minds, but he believed the blunt of the hatred went to his father. They were both alleged Death Eater's known for their cruelty, and in the scarce letters sent to their son in that year, Draco knew that Lucius was the one who got beaten whenever a prisoner escaped their binds around him, not his mother. No one hated on Narcissa there, for everyone seemed to busy pitying her. Even the prisoners of Azkaban knew she was a pawn in Lucius's game to obtain divine rights as Voldemort's favorite Death Eater.

But for his sanity, the young man attempted to not dwell on his parents involvement in the war at all. He still heard the whispers everywhere he went about his family, and knew they had many years ahead before anyone would ever believe they were changing. Draco attempted to keep their money coming in through investments, and although it worked it did little to help their image to society. Donations did not prove that he was kind, and in the eye of the majority of the people, he was still a complete bastard. Sometimes he didn't believe he could really change himself.

His parents were something that gave him doubt about that. He was trying to better himself, but they remained anti-social and alone in their differing places in the house, ignoring each other as best they could. Whenever he went to speak to one of them, they would ask about the other before snapping a crude comment about their spouse, like they didn't care. But sometimes he got the feeling that they were lonely, and hoping the other wanted to see them. Neither ever said this, and he never pushed. If they wanted to wallow alone in these dank halls, he was not going to stop them.

He had his own problems to deal with on a daily basis. His arm was beginning to tingle, and he knew in a few minutes he would be unable to move for a long time. Leaving the remainder of his breakfast on the table, he called Crink to remove it as he darted upstairs. His section of the Manor resided on the East wing, with his mother to the south and his father, the north. The west wing held the majority of their party rooms. He hurried back to his quarters, not caring one bit that he looked like a scared child while doing so.

Bolting into his room, he cast some of the lights on and locked the door tight. Walking quickly to his bed, he rummaged through the bedside drawer. Pulling out the bottle he had purchased a week back, he took off the lid and dipped his fingers in, taking the salve from inside to spread across the Dark Mark. It burned, and he collapsed back on the bed, arching his back when the salve began bubbling as usual, causing jolts of searing pain to soar up his arm.

The pain lasted moments, before settling down into a comfortable heat. He settled back on the bed, breathing deeply. This method always hurt, but if he had enough salve and could reach it fast enough he could often avoid the paralyzing pain the Dark Mark could inflict. The old man he bought it from charged far too much for it, but Draco had no idea what the properties within it were an could not yet duplicate the salve.

When he could, he planned to enhance it to a point where it would remove the Dark Mark and its tainted magic all together. That was half the reason he bought the treatment; to study it (and to help him get around, of course.) But the salve would run out fast, and those were the days that made him wish he were dead. The pain could be intolerable sometimes.

Taking a deep breath, he sat up and grabbed the pack of cigarettes sitting on his table. Taking one out, he used his wand to light it and inhaled deeply. This was unhealthy, but it kept him going.

A moment later, the floo roared to life and out stepped the figure of his best mate, Blaise Zabini. The Italian looked just as tired as he felt in the light, and they barely exchanged a nod before the guest made his way to the nearest chair. Taking one look at his friends arm, the man shook his head.

"It's been bothering you again today, I see."

"As always," Draco replied, hitting the cigarette again. "I suppose that means you haven't been attacked yet?"

Blaise shook his head. "Mine aren't as frequent as yours Draco, you know that."

And he did. Blaise had been a Death Eater, but shortly before the Golden Trio arrived at Malfoy Manor during what should've been their seventh year, Blaise and his mother bowed out of the war and ran off to Italy until it ended. He had not been close to Voldemort, and did not have countless spells and chants and dark curses attacking his body all the time, letting more of the man's horrid essence sink in. In short, the less of a connection one had with Voldemort, the less their Mark now hurt. And Blaise was lucky enough to have only rare pains.

"Any luck cracking what Viktor uses in that salve?" Viktor was the elderly salesman whom Draco bought the medication from and paid to keep quiet. The man was not kind, but he was helpful.

The blonde shook his head. "No. I can't seem to figure it out. I've tried potions combinations, I've tried spells with the potion ingredients, and so far nothing works."

Blaise nodded. "I see. Do you want me to try-"

"No," Draco cut in, looking down. It was no secret that he wanted to do it all by himself, and he wanted no one to help him with his own health. Being a Malfoy on Voldemort's bad side had earned him more of a connection with the man's essence and magic than he cared for, and far more than some Death Eater's. He was in more pain than many people.

The Italian pressed his lips firmly together, nodding again. He knew what his friend's answer would be before he ever asked, but he tried nonetheless. All Draco was doing was wasting time being too arrogant, thinking he could solve everything about this by himself, when in actuality he had made very little progress finding a way to make a better, less addictive version of the salve. The more he used it, the more he felt he needed it. And Blaise could see the effects slowly eating at him. Malfoy was addicted, and it was bad for his health.

"You need to get out more," he said at length, standing. "You only go out to buy that medication, and to stalk some poor woman these days-"

"I'm not stalking her!" Draco snapped, glaring up at his friend. "I'm looking out for her. She's not doing what one would expect of her."

"So who is she?" Zabini had asked this exact question on more than one occasion the last few days, and each time Draco refused to give him a name. He didn't understand why though, since the blonde often had to voice what was going on in his head to keep from going insane. So why the secrecy?

The blonde took one last hit of his cigarette, before putting it out in the ashtray. "I changed my mind, we should go out."

Blaise rolled his eyes. "You're only trying to avoid the question, as usual. I don't understand what the big deal is with her-"

"It's nothing!" he snapped, standing. Wandering to his wardrobe, he threw the doors open and began searching the dresser for some socks. "Let's just go out- you're right, I have been in here too long."

The Italian grimaced. He was avoiding things again, but for now he would let it go. Perhaps he could get the man to slip up later while they were out. Hell, maybe a pretty girl would walk by and distract his mind, and then Draco might let something important escape, like a name.

* * *

Although he agreed to go out into the world to appease Blaise and stop all the questions, Draco was not at all excited to do so. Even just wandering down a street, people parted for them, staring at him like he was the Devil. There were whispers everywhere, and inside his head, the blonde was already coming up with creative ways to kill Blaise for making him do this. It wasn't unusual to be stared at, but it got uncomfortable at some point when everywhere you looked people seemed to have nothing else in their eyes but _die._ Many of the wizards and witches in London would not cry if he was dead, and it seemed the idea was becoming more and more appealing.

_Damn it Blaise, why did you have to choose someplace crowded?_

They were going to go buy the Italian a new broom from the Quidditch shop, his last one having been bought before the war. Zabini was active enough on a broom these days, and the blonde was surprised he hadn't purchased one before now. The old one looked like it couldn't support a child anymore, let alone a full-grown man.

Unfortunately, the Quidditch shop was packed, and stepping into the place he felt the atmosphere chill. Those by the door turned to stare Draco down, but he just looked past them. If he bothered to look into every person's eyes that glared his way, he would never get anywhere. Following Blaise, they traveled past books on the sport and training gear, right on back to the brooms. Immediately, his friend forgot he was there at all and began looking around. That was just fine with Draco, who leaned back against the wall while Zabini searched.

Draco didn't even play Quidditch anymore- at least not with others. He saw no point to go to game sessions when no one would want him on their team. But Blaise played often with makeshift teams, and he wouldn't put his mate's feelings down just because he himself couldn't enjoy the game anymore. He would just wait for the man to return, while ignoring everyone around him.

To his left, a conversation caught his attention; "-far too expensive for what little we have. You cannot be serious about purchasing this! We barely have enough to afford our house!"

"Shut up Hermione, you never let me do anything fun."

"Well, use your old broom. We can't afford this."

He knew those voices well enough from school to know who was also in the shop. Turning his head slightly, he caught sight of the muttering couple, arguing over a rather expensive looking broom. So, she really was with the buffoon.

Ron Weasley stood gripping a broom, staring at Hermione with livid eyes. One would think this was a life or death decision, not one involving a broom to fly around on. No one else in the shop seemed to be paying the quiet couple any mind, but their banter caught his attention. Both looked unhappy, and the girl actually looked furious.

"Well, we'll just have to scrape a little on the apartment costs next month!" he hissed, turning away. "You never let me buy anything! Well, I'm buying this! Our bank accounts are mostly under my name, I'll just pull from those."

"Ron, that's going to make it nearly impossible to pay for anything, even this month," she protested.

"We'll be fine," he argued, walking away. She watched him go without another protest, silently shaking her head. All she could think about was how little money they had to begin with.

As Ron left that section of the store, her eyes followed. Hermione's heart nearly stopped when she realized Draco Malfoy was standing nearby, his eyes watching her. Did he hear what was going on? She wasn't sure she wanted to know.

Ignoring him again, she hurried after the ginger. Draco watched her as she rushed off.

"Well, that was easier than I thought it would be," Blaise said, walking to his side. He noticed that the blonde seemed preoccupied, and nudged him as he walked past. "Problem?"

"No," he replied, shaking his head. Blaise raised a curious eyebrow at that, but said nothing.

"Let's just pay and get out of here, this place is ridiculous." Draco nodded his agreement, following Blaise as we walked in the same direction Granger had gone, searching for a place to checkout.

But Draco didn't really concern himself now with the people glaring at him, nor the long amount of time he would need to stand in line with Blaise. He was focused solely on the conversation he overheard, and the distressed girl Weasley left in his wake.

_Seems like things aren't going well in paradise, Granger. Perhaps it's time I send you an owl… _


	12. Aftermath: Dark

**A/n: **Here's another chapter. This chapter almost didn't get to be because my dog nearly broke the flash drive I keep all my stories on, but never fear, it got finished! I hope you enjoy and please leave a comment at the bottom :) Thanks to my beta **loveinthemadness**! And as always, check me out on facebook! The link is up on my profile.

* * *

She was in a rush that morning. Ron left late for work- or wherever he planned on going that day- and it left her little time to prepare for her job at the pub. Her boss had complained about her clothing the other day, and now she found herself shrinking her clothes to reveal more skin than she ever had in public before. It was _mortifying_, but she would need to make as much as she could today if she planned on having enough money to keep their apartment. With Ron's careless spending the day before, it would be harder to make ends meet.

She was searching for some shoes to configure into high, ridiculous heels when a pecking sound interrupted her search. Glancing up, she noticed that an owl sat perched just outside the bedroom window on the sill. Walking over, she let the bird in, wondering who was sending them mail. Pulling the envelope away, she noted her name on the front.

_Who's this from?_

She sent the bird off to eat some seed before sitting on her bed. She would be cutting it close, but her interest was too great to ignore the letter. Were it from her friends, she would recognize the bird. Tearing the letter open, she read the contents;

_If you're reading this, then I assume your usual interest has peeked again and you wanted to know who this is from. May I just say that you really chose a winner Granger, what with the amazing way Weasley can balance financial issues. Is he perhaps the reason you journey to dark places, making money in shady bars? _

_Yes, Granger, I overheard you two yesterday in the Quidditch shop. He seems to step all over you, doesn't he? Such a shame; everyone thought you would go so far, yet you're letting yourself be dragged down by a moron that cannot go to work half the time because his peers do not respect him. I of course don't respect him either. _

_Maybe we should speak the next time you frequent that pub. Do you think tips from half-brained drunks are going to help with your apartment rent? You'd have to learn to dance like the women on stage to make that kind of money Granger, and we both know you will not sink so low as to prostitute yourself. And if you want to keep that roof over your heads, you're going to have to find a new form of income. Being a waitress won't save you forever. _

_We need to speak darling, without your odd little bodyguard hanging around as a shadow. You must be working within the next few days, and I plan to see you. If you wish to see what else I have to say, you will find me. _

_M._

She gripped the note tightly when she finished. He was right, her small tips would not help her forever, and she would need to make more to make ends meet. But if he thought she had ever considered the other positions at the pub he was mistaken! She had more respect for herself than that!

She threw the note away, sending off his owl without a response. He wanted to see her, so why bother? She had no idea what she planned to do when she faced him yet, but she did know that she couldn't waste time thinking now. She was going to be late and that wouldn't help her get in good with her boss.

Hurrying to the floo, she discarded every thought she could from her mind as she called out her location. She would have to do some jogging, but she could get to work. And if he was there when she arrived, then she could decide what to do.

* * *

Seamus grabbed her just before she could go in, asking why she was dressed so horribly. She told him she needed to, but didn't waste much time speaking with him. The smell on his breath let her know he had already been drinking, and she quickly got past him into the club. She couldn't waste time.

She quickly grabbed a tray, ready to go about her job. Seeing as it was a weekend, the place was busier for the morning. Her boss watched her prepare the assorted drinks with dark eyes, waiting for her to mess up. It had never been a secret that he didn't have much of a belief in her, but hired her on because of who she was, and the business she would bring. He just didn't think this was her type of job.

Walking out, she found herself very distracted. She didn't notice how big her tips were, nor who she was speaking to. Finnegan sat at the bar, watching her as usual. Today it felt exceptionally uncomfortable to have his eyes on her, especially now that she could cover so little of herself. The men around leered at her too much, and no matter how many remarks she threw their way, it did nothing to deter their comments, and their hands. She would have to talk with her boss before leaving tonight about the fact that she was hired to sell drinks, not her body.

After two hours, she began giving up on the idea that he meant anything through that note. Although she was interested to know how much truth was in his words, it seemed now that he would not be holding true to anything. Hadn't he said he would be there early?

_What am I saying? Malfoy can't hold true to anything, I'm certain of that. _

She was selling her last beverage to a rather found man when she spotted him. He was crossing the back of the pub with a girl attached to his arm. She rolled her eyes, deciding he had found himself some cheap woman to use within the establishment. But as she handed back the change he proved her incorrect by casting the girl off with a shove, and the pretty burgundy haired girl turned and headed into the back where the dancers got ready. She had been wrong, and the girl was just another new hire to the place.

She was going to turn away and deal with the bloke later when he reached up and began waving one long arm, indicating that he wished for her to come his way. Cringing, she did just that, wishing she could tell him to fuck off. They could not be having any sort of serious conversation while she was on the clock.

When she paused in front of him, he gave her a quick survey. "I should've sent my note earlier I see."

"Why do you say that?"

He chuckled, "Look at yourself Granger! You may as well be selling yourself on the stage with the rest of the females here."

Hermione glared at him. "This wasn't my idea; my boss thought it would help with selling drinks and increase my tips if I looked like everyone else." She rolled her eyes. "I have more self-respect for myself than this."

"So quit," he said, arching an eyebrow. "If you can't stand looking cheap, then you should find a different job to work with your Ministry career."

Her expression hardened. "I think we both know that I can't do that right now."

"Ah yes, the financial crisis you and dear old Weasel-face," he said, reaching out to grab the drink. He didn't ask the cost, and just shoved some money into her hand. "Your boss was beginning to look irritated."

Glancing over her shoulder, she noted that indeed her boss was surveying them, watching with keen eyes as though he thought something else was going on between them. She blushed and looked away, noting that Seamus had an odd expression on his face as well.

"I can't linger too long here; he's going to think I'm trying to get you to partake in other features the club offers, and then he will want me to move up to that."

Draco smirked at that, surveying her up and down. "And where exactly would I take you for that?"

Her face lost all color, and she took a step away from him. "Malfoy, I refuse-"

"Hypothetically Granger," he said, rolling his eyes. "As if I would actually want to do that."

She wasn't sure if she should believe him, but crossed her arms nonetheless, holding the tray in one hand. "There are rooms on the second floor of this place for customers to take the girls; it's barbaric."

"Well of course you think so Granger; I never thought you would be one to sleep around." He sipped the drink he had purchased. "When is your break?"

She narrowed her eyes, tilting her head. "Why?"

"Well, I'm sure you're curious about what I wanted to discuss with you, and one of those rooms upstairs would be private enough to hold that conversation. There are too many observers down here."

"I'm not going up there with you," she hissed. "Merlin, my boss would push me up to being a dancer then!"

He shrugged. "I thought you would prefer it over going outside."

She wasn't quite sure what she wanted. Upstairs would look bad, but outside anyone could see her. Deciding to secure her place as a waitress only, she gulped. "Outside then."

"Whatever you say Granger," he agreed holding his hands up.

"And Malfoy?"

"Hm?"

"This had better be good."

* * *

Never had she dreaded going on break so much. But as she grabbed a fruit drink- one of the only non-alcoholic beverages there- she found a hand on her back, and turned to spot Seamus looking at her.

"Oh, hello Seamus," she said, giving him a faint smile. She noted the unhappy look on his face and cringed.

"What did Malfoy want?" he asked, watching her closely. "He seems to be coming here a lot lately."

"He just wanted to talk to me, that's all."

"About?"

She frowned. "Well, I don't know how that's relevant to you at all, so I don't feel obliged to tell you. Really Seamus, I know you help keep me safe but I am not required to tell you every little thing. Now if you'll excuse me, I have something to deal with outside."

His eyes flashed as she turned around. "Well, let me come with-"

"Alone," she called back, opening the door. She didn't hear him following and decided it was safe to proceed. The wind outside was bitter, and she wished she had thought to grab a coat in this frigid wind. The jog that morning had been just as unpleasant, and it was a wonder why she didn't transfigure one of the thick curtains into a warm shawl.

A few of the dark figures that journeyed to that part of London gave her a good look over as she passed, but she wasted no time finding her way to the meeting spot she arranged with Malfoy only an hour before. It was thankfully nearby, and when she did finally locate him she noted that many of the people stopped watching her. Well, the prick was good for something at least.

"Aren't you cold?" he inquired, noting that she didn't wear anything to fight off the chill. When she shook her head, he just rolled his eyes and moved onto other subjects, not caring if she froze. It was her idiocy that would be the cause of her own death.

"What did you want?" she asked, rubbing her arms. "You said you would tell me what else you were thinking if I came to speak to you, and now I have. So, what is it? What could you possibly want?"

He chuckled, leaning back against the cold stone wall behind him. Luckily he had on a thick winter cloak, one which would protect him from the unforgiving weather that day. "How goes your income Granger? Made enough money in tips yet to salvage your rent, or are you just coming up with enough to eat."

Her eyes darkened. "I am not completely poor you know, Malfoy! Our funds are limited but I do make a decent income through my Ministry job. We have some money- enough to eat." She leaned a bit closer. "Just because I wasn't born into a rich family doesn't mean that I crawl in the streets looking for a shred of cash. I work two jobs to secure our apartment- the one that Ron wanted to get because it was extravagant, and perhaps if the initial benefits from the war had been spent wisely we would be able to afford it. But he is not the best when it comes to conserving cash, and those funds have run dry. I can eat Malfoy; I won't go hungry if I don't make ends meet this month, but I will lose my apartment and have to move home again."

"Ah," he said slowly, piecing things together in his mind. "You wish to keep the apartment because it is the one thing that will keep you independent from your parents; it is a place where you can live alone and be free."

"No, my apartment is a place I live with my husband, and since he is usually drinking it would be hard to see him at all if we lived in separate homes."

He smirked. "So again, it all falls back to the independence, freedom and privileges that come from owning your own apartment."

She pursed her lips, wishing he didn't get under her skin so much. Maybe if she didn't get so aggravated around him, she wouldn't be blurting things out he could use against her. "Yes, I suppose so. How does this matter Malfoy?"

To this he chuckled, before snatching an arm out to grab her wrist. Immediately she reached down and grabbed her wand, aiming it at his face.

"Don't worry Mudblood, I wouldn't hurt you in a place so open."

"Don't call me that," she hissed, though she knew he was doing it only to bother her.

Again, he chuckled. "Trust me, I mean you no harm." Keeping ahold of her wrist with one hand, he used the other to pull up the sleeve of his cloak. She cringed as she recognized the mark hidden there, and when he switched hands to place her own on his old tattoo, she angled her wand at his face again.

"Like I said, it won't harm you." She didn't believe him, but nodded her consent to go on all the while keeping her wand level with his nose.

He placed her hand on the scar, and instantly she felt jolts of power surging up her arm. It hurt, and he let go after only a few seconds. She staggered back as the power attacked her, and for a moment she felt like she couldn't breathe. It felt like something cold and powerful was eating at her flesh.

And then it was gone. But the aftermath left her gasping on the ground. He stood at her side, watching up saying nothing. When she finally remained her breath, she jumped to her feet again.

"You said it wouldn't hurt me!"

He sneered. "Oh trust me, Granger, that was nothing. The Dark Mark can do heinous things to a person, and since the fall of Voldemort the dark magic has gone out of control. Without its master to call you to him, the magic has no purpose. And dark magic that has been left alone too long has a tendency to do strange things."

"Like that?" she inquired, standing. She left a good amount of distance between them, eyeing him carefully.

"Yes like that, but at greater volumes. What you experienced is nothing compared to what I tolerate on a daily basis."

Hermione shook her head. "Then I don't understand; what does this have to do this me?"

He reached into his pocket, drawing out a bottle. "There is a salve I use on the tattoo each day to help deal with the pains, but it is expensive and addictive. I shouldn't use it as much as I do. Now this is where you come in Granger."

"Go on, I'm listening."

Draco smirked at this, reaching out once more to grab her arm, but this time she was prepared and kept them a wands distance apart, the tip of her weapon stabbing into his stomach. "You're a brilliant mind Granger, so this task should be a small feat for you. Make me a salve I can apply to the tattoo to fight off the pains- one that has no bad side effects- and I'll pay you your worth in galleons. You'll never have to worry about money again."


	13. Aftermath: Neck

A/n: Tada, another update! This one is going to get things moving in the next chapters, and it really shows us how much of an ass Ron is! Don't forget to leave some feedback at the bottom :) Thanks to my beta **loveinthemadness**! And as always, check me out on facebook! The link is up on my profile.

* * *

Hermione left work an hour early that day. Malfoy had given her a small amount of the salve to take home with her, as something to mull over before making her final decision about helping him. The proposition could've been much worse after all- he could've asked for sex or something ridiculous.

Although his request was diluted- even reasonable- it didn't help the uneasiness rising in her stomach as she sat staring at the small container. This was Malfoy, and she had no reason to trust him, much less listen to him. He had hurt her enough over the years to train her to be weary of him. There was always something up his sleeve- some motive to harm her- and that had her on the edge. If she agreed to this, would she really be informed of the entire deal, or did he have secret additions to the deal that she wouldn't know of until later?

There were so many variables.

She reached up and rubbed the new mark on her neck. After she went back inside, the blonde had apparently decided that his work was done and left the pub. A drunken Seamus had passed out at the bar, and proven useless for the duration of her shift. The git that had grabbed her while she served him a drink and left the horrendous love bite on her neck, would never attempt the same act again since she nearly ripped his balls off. She did not like being bothered, and now because of him she would have to wear a concealment charm for days so Ron didn't get the wrong idea and start thinking she was cheating on him.

Tossing the container aside somewhere in the bed sheets, she stood up and made her way to the bedroom mirror. Pushing her hair away from her neck, she studied the offending mark. It was very red, and very obvious. With a sigh, she pulled her wand from her pocket and cast the spell twice, letting the mark disappear completely.

_Great, now I just have to cast that spell twice, two times a day for a week to keep the mark hidden. If that's not tedious, I don't know what is._

Returning to the bed, she flopped down on it. She was tired, having slept little the night before. Her hands found a pillow, and pulling it to her she curled up, allowing herself to fall asleep. She just didn't want to think about things anymore.

* * *

She awoke to the sound of something smashing, and jolted up in bed. Rubbing her eyes, she noticed her infuriated boyfriend standing beside the bed, his hand bleeding slightly.

"Ron, what the hell are you doing!?" She jumped up, reaching for his hand but he swatted her away, leaving small drops of blood on her arm. Glancing to his side, she noticed with extreme irritation that the bedside lampshade was missing, but shards of glass lay across the bed. Apparently the redhead's famous temper had gotten the better of him over something, and the lampshade had paid the price.

"What am I doing Hermione? What the hell are you wearing?!"

She paused on her knees, glancing down at her attire. She still wore the clothing she had transfigured for working at the pub, having completely forgotten to change and hide them before falling asleep. Ron had known her long enough to know she wasn't really kinky, and she would not dress like that to greet him hello after disappearing for the day. The fire in his eyes told her that he thought there were other reasons for her attire, and he would not be incorrect. She quickly fell onto her bottom and straightened her legs, trying to make the skimpy skirt appear longer.

"What, this thing? I was bored today, Ron! I decided to go for a new look."

He laughed, but it was not kind. The sound was rough, and his eyes wide. "Oh please Hermione, you would never wear that! At least, you would never try that out as a new look. Whenever we go places you complain about the women I gawk at that dress that way."

"Well, Ronald, maybe if you didn't gawk at them, I wouldn't complain so much! Did it ever occur to you that perhaps your girlfriend doesn't appreciate being ignored when a slut passes by? Honestly, I don't understand how people can deal with this type of clothing. I've felt naked all day."

His eyes narrowed. "So you've been wearing that all day, hmm? Did you go out like that maybe? Did you parade around like all the other sluts out there?!"

"Oh Ron, shut up! I can't stand the way I look; why would I go out in public like this. It's bad enough that you're seeing me look so cheap."

He scoffed. "Yes, it's so bad when you blend in with everything in this house! Your clothes may look cheap, but they match the shitty sofa, bed sheets, towels, and everything else we own!"

"Did you just call me cheap!? The only reason everything we have is shitty Ron is because you spent all our funds! You gambled, you bought ridiculous things, and every time we have enough money to buy something decent, you have to be a total prick and rush off with all of it to buy something worthless! Do you think that damn Quidditch broom is going to help our problems, Ron, really? Is the new expensive lounge chair really going to help keep this roof over our heads?!"

He shoved her back until she fell flat on the bed, glaring up at him. He climbed on top of her, and she began beating him with her fists. "Get off you oaf! We need to talk for once!"

"We aren't talking though, we're arguing!" he snapped, dipping to bite her neck. It hurt more than it should, probably because it was the same place the idiot bit her only hours earlier.

"Get off!" She shoved him, but he didn't relent. He just gripped her shoulders, biting into the sensitive skin of her neck harder than was comfortable.

"We need to let off some steam."

"We need to talk things through!" She shoved him and he finally moved, but the teeth that had been attacking her neck locked on and pulled on the skin, piercing it. She cried out in pain and he finally conceded, jumping off of her.

"Shit," he muttered, jumping off of her. Flecks of blood appeared on her neck; nothing deep, but enough to confirm the taste in his mouth. He cringed, reaching out to help her sit up.

"Stay away from me!" She moved out of his reach, nearly falling off the other side of the bed in her hurry. He cringed again at the fearful look in her eyes, her body finding its footing and standing, putting the queen sized bed between them.

"What the hell is wrong with you!?"

"I didn't mean to, Hermione!" he argued, holding up his hands. "I wanted to make a point-"

"A point of what?! That you can hurt me if you chose?"

"That you were being too bitchy! You weren't listening and I figured if I distracted you, you might-"

"Oh, I'm distracted alright, but not in a good way! Oh, just wait until I get my hands on you, Ron!" She snapped an arm out, stealing the wand she had carelessly dropped on the bed in her scramble to get away. "You're being ridiculous!"

"I just wanted to prove my point!"

She scoffed, backing away towards the bathroom. "What is your point then, that you can be a crude, possessive arsehole? Well, congratulations, you passed!" She turned and dashed to the bathroom door as he began wandering around the bed towards her, beating him to the door but not succeeding in shutting it. "Leave me alone!"

"No, I'm sorry, Hermione. Let me help-"

"You've done enough," she snapped, pushing on the door. She had made it inside, and was now attempting to push the door shut. "I've seen enough of you for right now!"

"But Hermione-"

"No!" She pressed her shoulder against the door, barely holding it at all as she chanted a spell. It propelled force behind her shove, and thankfully the oak door slammed shut. She sank against the frame, locking it.

"Open the door!"

She shook her head, staring in a daze at the space before her. Her neck burned, and her energy was pumped. She still had plenty of things to say to him, but in that moment she could not tolerate listening to him repeat the same sentences over again.

"Fuck you, Ron!" she shouted, hitting the door. "Fuck you!"

It grew quiet on the opposite side, and she sank further to the ground in relief. He was relenting for now, and she would take it if she could. She heard him stomping around in the bedroom, and something else broke before the footsteps began moving away, and a moment later she could hear the distant roar of the floo, and Ron's angry voice calling out the name of a bar. For the moment, he was gone.

Struggling to her feet, she made her way to the mirror again. This time, she braced herself against the sink for several moments before daring to pull her hair back. This time it hurt a bit, and she realized the wound his teeth left behind had begun to bleed. Throughout their argument, she had forgotten about the pain. Now as she pulled her hair back with one hand and allowed the strands to dance over the injury, she recalled why it hurt so much. The left side of her neck now had a decent amount of blood leaking out, and she shoved all of her hair away in order to see the marks. It was coated in red liquid, and keeping her head titled slightly, she grabbed the towel- the type Ron called "shitty"- sitting beside the sink and wet it, pressing it to her neck. It hurt, but she knew the wounds weren't very deep.

Still, the fact that he could inflict that type of pain on her and then still chase her around the room was unsettling. She knew he was just angry for now and had gone off to drink, however Ron was _Ron_ and he would return once he was hammered and try to make things up with her, but he had never made her bleed. Despite all those fights they had, he never, made her bleed until today. This was unknown territory, and she wasn't sure what would happen.

Pulling the towel away, she peered at the offending marks. His teeth had been dragged down her throat a bit, and although the gashes were less than an inch long, they looked like vampire bites. She cringed at the marks and used a spell to heal them, watching the faint scars appear. The _love bite_ from the man earlier didn't seem so severe now.

When she was finally healed, she sank to the floor. Things were beginning to set in, and her body was shaking. She had never thought that Ron would hurt her like that, and he hadn't even been under the influence of anything. It scared her to consider what he would do if he ever got that angry again and she was around.

_He's going to be angry with you no matter what. If he catches you dressed like this again, who knows how extreme he will go. Although I can fight him if I have to, I don't want to. It's Ron! We're supposed to be friends- lovers; were supposed to get along._

She brushed the stray tear away from her eye. Crying wouldn't help anything, and would probably turn her into a shivering mess. She kept him at bay before he got too out of control and did something truly horrid, but what about the next time? She shivered.

_I can't let there be a next time._

_But I can't stop making money. If I do that, we will be removed from this apartment. My Ministry job just won't make ends meet. _

She got to her feet, shoving away anymore tears that tried to dance down her face. Unlocking the bathroom door, she was careful to inspect the bedroom through a crack before setting out. If Ron had only gone through the actions of leaving, then he could still be lurking around the apartment, ready to continue with their dispute.

But he was nowhere to be found, and she dashed from the bedroom to the floo, only stopping at the bed along the way to grab the container Malfoy had given her with his salve. Attached to the small object was his contact information, and if she was ever going to agree to his proposition it would have to be now.

He had even opened his floo up to receiving her calls, just in case she decided to take his offer. And she wasted no time getting a hold of him.

When his face appeared in the flames, he looked to have just been sleeping. "Granger?"

"Hello Malfoy," she said, attempting to make her voice sound bright and pleasant. Instead it came out shaking and hesitant, and caused his brow to crease.

"You sound bloody horrible."

_Gee, thanks. _"I wanted to talk to you about your proposition."

"Yes, well, I didn't think there was any other reason you would get ahold of me."

"I suppose that's true." The quiver in her voice was slowly disappearing the longer Ron remained gone, and talking to another person- even _Malfoy_- was calming her nerves. "I'd like to help you; I need the money. I can't keep working at that pub."

Even through the floo connection, she could tell he was smirking. "Well, excellent, Granger! We can discuss how and when you will be paid next time we meet- since we will have to meet to get things moving. You don't by chance have a potions lab at hand, do you?"

_No Malfoy, I'm a normal person who doesn't have the entire world stuffed into their bloody home! _"Can't say that I do."

"I was afraid of that. It just means you will have to come to the Manor and use my personal lab, though that could be dangerous… well, that's no matter. I'm sure you're smart enough to avoid danger, even though you are annoyingly curious."

She frowned. "Thanks…"

"When are you available to begin Granger? The faster we can get this done the quicker we can stop communicating with each other."

She thought about that. "I have to work at the Ministry in the morning, and then around four I'm scheduled at the pub-"

"I thought you said you couldn't work there anymore?"

She cringed, not wanting to explain to the blonde of all people what had happened between her and Ron. "I haven't officially quit yet."

"Well, do that! It won't do to have you working at three different places, will it? Weasley would probably go into withdrawals, never getting to see you and such."

"Yes… I'm sure he would." She sincerely wished he would stop bringing up Ron.

"It's settled then. Quit you're hooker job tomorrow-"

"I'm _not_ a hooker, Malfoy, I'm a cocktail waitress."

"Well, whatever you prefer to be called, Granger. When should I floo you?"

She cringed again, thinking about what would happen if Ron were home when he did that. "I'll floo you when I get home tomorrow, so about three thirty."

"Excellent, Granger," he replied, sounding pleased. "I'm glad we are able to do business together."

"Yes, me too." She got the feeling that there was still more to this than met the eye, but didn't say anything about it. They just bid each other goodbye, agreeing to talk again at three thirty tomorrow. Once the connection was cut off, she fell back on the floor.

_What are you getting yourself into, Hermione? _


	14. Aftermath: Arm

**A/n: **Tada, chapter 14! I hope you enjoy and please leave a comment at the bottom :) Thanks to my beta **loveinthemadness**! **Not yet edited. And as always, check me out on facebook! The link is up on my profile.

* * *

Quitting her pub job was a bit more problematic than Hermione would like to admit. Not only did her boss curse, agree to a pay raise and then even go as vulgar as offering additional services to her if she stayed, but he also held the conversation loud enough for nearby patrons to listen in on. Regulars like Seamus, who caught her arm just as she was about to exit after being called every name possible by her disrespectful boss.

"Why are you quitting?" he asked, his voice calm but his grip rough. "Did Ron find out-"

"No," she replied quickly, though that wasn't entirely true. He hadn't found out about all of it at least. "I found another source of work, one more respectable where I won't feel dirty all the time."

_Well, I hope anyway. Malfoy could throw out the Mudblood card every ten minutes for all I know. _

"But you can always make more income here," he argued, looking directly into her eyes. "Look Hermione, without you around who am I supposed to talk to?"

She gestured towards the stage. "One of the dancers? They might not be respectable but Tabitha and Gretchen can hold quite educated conversations when they attempt to. Or you could always go looking for another bar if you prefer to go someplace less shady all the time. Think about it, now you're free to go anywhere and get drunk wherever because I'm not longer a concern."

He muttered something to that that she didn't catch and he wouldn't repeat. Giving up, he released her, giving the poor girl a slight shove away from him. "Yes, I suppose your right," he spat, turning away. "You can walk yourself to the floo channel outside then, since you're so bloody right."

"Now Seamus-" she attempted to argue, but he wouldn't hear it. He shouldered one man out of the way in his hurry to get away from her, and she was left standing there, shaking her head.

It wasn't as if she had never walked to the floo channel by herself before in these parts. She always left the pub and walked alone around this time. As she departed from the bar she cringed, noticing the time. It was three thirty-five, meaning that Malfoy would probably have a fit when she connected to his floo. Hastening to a jog, she silently prayed that Ron would still not be home.

* * *

"I was beginning to think you had second thoughts about our deal," Malfoy said when she did floo him later. It was nearly four by then, and she could only roll her eyes at him.

"Well, I'm here now, so why does it matter?"

"Oh Granger, you're getting so testy already. Don't have such an attitude, will you? It will make this agreement very unpleasant. Now I've opened the floo network to allow you through, so come over so we can get things in order."

The very idea of going to Malfoy Manor was a bit alarming for Hermione, but she decided she would rather deal with Draco Malfoy at the moment than Ron; at least with the blonde, it was always cruel remarks and sarcastic replies. There was no uneven ground like there was between her and Ron now. Sighing, she snatched up the small bag she planned to bring to the Manor and dared to take the floo network there, thankful that she hadn't gone to the pub to work after all; else her attire would've been less than appropriate.

When she arrived, she was disoriented. The room she stood in was massive, painted with dark green walls and heavy curtains adorned the windows, barely letting in any light at all. She blinked several times before adjusting to the light, noticing that Malfoy stood just in front of her with his arms crossed. Behind him sat a small collection of furniture fashioned in a way that gave the illusion of a living room, but beyond that to the right there was a bed. Shaking her head, she glanced at him.

"What kind of room is this?" she asked, really unsure. It was a partial bedroom, partial living room.

From his position, the blonde glanced at her with astounded eyes and scoffed. "What does it bloody look like, the kitchen? This is my bedroom Granger. Don't act as if you've never seen one. You and the Weasel must have one someplace in the stingy apartment you share."

_Here we go again with the Ron comments. _"We do," she snapped, gripping the strap of her purse a bit tighter, "But you easily forget Malfoy that my home is not as ridiculously sized as your own. In my home, we have a separate space for where we entertain the guests and where we sleep." She indicated to the misplaced furniture first, then the bed, and it only caused a smirk to spread across his face.

"Well Granger, here those can be one in the same place." She blushed at his comment, which was odd to consider since she did work for unknown weeks in a shady pub, but he didn't comment on her reaction. Instead, he let the topic drop at prior when she chose not to answer, deciding to move things along. "Shall I show you where you will be working?"

"That would be appreciated," she remarked sarcastically.

He nodded, then turned away and began walking. She hurried behind him, following his lengthy strides with her smaller steps. "Now Granger, please keep in mind I am not the only occupant of this Manor. My parents do reside here as well- though in different wings than I- and though we rarely speak it isn't unheard of for my father to make a detour through my part of this house on occasion."

Hermione's breath caught at that. It sounded remarkably sad to live in a home where you literally had whole sections divided out to one person, and yet it was unusual for others to come visit you? Though to actually think that Lucius was there made her blood boil- that man caused more problems than anyone she knew!

"Do you not like it when your father comes this way?" she dared to ask.

"My parents are both on house arrest due to their involvement in the war," he responded, his tone growing icy. "My father is a wretched man who suffered just as much as my mother did during their time in Azkaban. I'm not about to tell you about all my fucking woes Granger, but let's just say they did not come back as the same people."

She clamped her mouth shut. Obviously his parents were a touchy subject, and if she made the blonde angry now he could simply sever the deal, leaving her without any additional income at all now that she had quit her job.

And that's when it hit her; he had told her to quit her other job, and now he would be her only source of income to help her salvage enough money each month to make up for what Ron wasted. If she faltered and didn't appease him with her progress he could stop funding her at any moment.

Hermione suddenly felt extremely trapped, and her stomach hit the floor. He had connived her into becoming a pawn basically, and she felt that had to be his original intent since he insisted that she quit her other job and only work there and the Ministry. Irritation boiled up in her blood as they walked in silence and she was about to give him a piece of her mind when he stopped in front of a door and drew it open, beckoning for her to enter first. Feeling very on edge she only allowed herself to peer in, but what she saw made her jaw drop.

_He wasn't lying when he said he had his own potion lab in here, was he?_

The place was just as large as their potion classroom at school, and every ingredient imaginable lay labeled on shelves, drawers, and there were even cupboards that held Merlin knew what! It was astounding to think he had such an amazing resource at his disposal, at any point in the day.

"This is the lab," he said, walking forwards when she decided not to. As she saw him entering though, she hurried after, her bookworm mind eager to look at the books she could see lining the wall.

"Once we have set up a new plan for when we will meet, you'll have access here whenever you arrive. Come here, and work. Don't dally in the halls or search the other rooms, because not everything here is as magical as this. I will pay you each week based on how many hours you have worked. If you work four hours for four days a week, each day you come, you'll roughly make the same amount you were at your job working five hours a day. I'll pay you minimum wage, considering that here you can't get additional tips just for having a pretty figure."

She glanced sideways at him. He stayed on topic for what they were discussing, but he kept throwing in little tidbits that didn't belong in the conversation. Telling her that she got money for having a nice body and that some of the rooms might be dangerous really weren't things he needed to be pointing out just then, so why was he?

"I suspect that you still have the salve sample I gave you?" She nodded. "Good, then use that to go off of when you make the new one. And please, don't expect me to use any of your trials unless they are near perfection. I don't want to have my skin scorched off because of a minuscule miscalculation."

"You're paying me," she snapped, glancing up at him, "And I take my work very seriously. I would not attempt to leave any marks on your skin unless it truly was an accident."

Draco cocked an eyebrow. "Well, let's hope so."

They discussed a few more vague topics, deciding that she would come over every Monday, Tuesday, Friday and Sundays after her Ministry job to work roughly four hours, or more if she really preferred. He would not stall her from finding a cure to his dilemma, after all. He would pay her the money every other Friday, but would compensate her that coming Friday because he felt that she needed it.

"You've been griping about your minimal finances for ages, Granger; just accept the fucking pay advantage. It won't do to have you backed up in bills and then have to bid you goodbye because you and Weasley lose your apartment. The money will at least hold you over until the next paycheck- or at least, I would hope."

She bit down on her lip, holding back the next retort she had. She didn't like his attempt of pity money, because obviously it meant that he didn't think she could even survive a week without the additional funds.

_Prick._

"You'll take the money at the end of the week," he said, ending the discussion when she didn't throw out a counter argument. "I think that's all we need to discuss for now. The floo is open to you to get here when you need to, but otherwise attempt to try and not disturb me."

"It's not like I want to spend all of my free time in your company either, Malfoy," she replied sarcastically.

"Wonderful, then I shouldn't see you more than needed. I suppose you best be off then, I don't expect you to attempt to start today. Get used to it and come back Monday with a clear mind. You might also consider getting yourself some decent sleep as well, you look quite worn."

"I don't need your advice, thank you." She knew she looked fairly tired, but she couldn't help it. Ron had scared her just a bit the night before, and she still wondered what would go on between them when and if he came back.

He held up his hands in defeat. "It was only a friendly suggestion. Your Ministry co-workers may wonder what you do when you leave if you always look so bloody tired."

Hermione didn't argue that because he had a point. Occasionally she would get questions or odd looks about how worn she looked, and sometimes people would even send her home. She couldn't help it though, not with Ron being the useless lazy arse he always was. He brought in no money and spent all that _she_ earned- it was a constant struggle  
for her to keep any funds. It was an unfair trade.

"I'll see you Monday," she relented, and he nodded in return. The git was actually being semi-kind, giving her a bit of time with which to get ready and set her affairs in order before starting her employment. She couldn't help thinking how uncharacteristic that was, but as they went back into the hall she noticed he was scowling, gripping his arm as though he was in pain.

"Are you alright?" she asked, pausing there as he slammed the door shut and leaned against it. The blonde truly did look bothered, but as she reached out to help him he slapped her hands away.

"Chipper," he grunted. "Why don't you see yourself out Granger? I'll just rest here-"

"Oh, don't even go there Malfoy. Just because you deem me to be lower than you does not mean that I buy your lies. It might squash your pride a bit to let me help you, but I'm fairly certain from the appearance of pain that I see here that you will not work to get back to your bedroom, and will rather rest here on the ground until you feel better. Am I wrong?"

He didn't argue, just shoved her off again. She huffed, frustrated with the moron but her mind could not just leave him there to suffer. Besides, this gave her the fabulous opportunity to observe what the pains really did to him.

Without waiting for him to comment again, she pulled out her wand and took a step back, using it to levitate him. When he realized what she was doing, he scowled but didn't argue as she rotated his body to lie down and moved them down the hallway.

"This room?"

"One more down."

Entering into the room, she hurried to set him on the bed. He let out a loud grunt when he touched the sheets, despite how lightly she placed him on the bed. Pocketing her wand again, she reached out again to roll him over, but one arm jutted out and shooed her away.

"I can handle it from here. Just get out, Granger."

"Malfoy-"

"Out!" He hissed and curled in on himself, and slowly she backed away. She wondered how he planned to cope with this, until she reminded herself that he had been doing it long before they crossed paths as adults. That mark had been with him for ages.

The uninjured arm reached up, searching for the handle to the side table drawer. Attempting to help, she reached over and opened it for him. His hand flew in and snatched up a bottle, containing the same substance he had given her; the salve.

"I told you to get out," he said, clumsily undoing the cap. When she finally saw him applying the treatment she turned to go.

"Sorry I lingered Malfoy," she snapped sarcastically, "Merlin forbid that someone might actually wait around to ensure that you survive." With that she threw the powder into the fireplace, calling out her apartment. As the flames erupted she missed the confused expression playing on his face. Her words would echo in his head all night long.


	15. Aftermath: Cheeks

A/n: I realized in an old chapter I wrote that Hermione and Ron are married, so they are actually married now, since I usually try to go with my first thoughts. So if you have read about them only dating until now, I apologize and will be making the corrections as time permits. Thanks to my beta **loveinthemadness**! And as always, check me out on facebook! The link is up on my profile.

* * *

The apartment was quiet upon her return, and Hermione felt that her husband had not yet returned. The ring on her finger was becoming a burden, and after speaking with Malfoy her head hurt. He was a pain, but the only thing she liked about him was that he wouldn't touch her. He kept his distance and ignored her as much as she tried to ignore him, and that was fine.

But Ron would want to talk when he returned, and she wasn't ready. After his atrocious behavior the last time they spoke she wasn't sure she could handle another encounter with him. She wasn't sure if he would apologize or act as if nothing happened, but either way she didn't want to deal with him.

Pushing open the bedroom door, she froze. There he sat on the bed, fiddling with his wand as though he hadn't done horrid things to her in that very room last time he was there. When he noticed her presence though, he jumped from the bed.

"Hermione! It's good to see you!" He made to walk over to her, but she drew her wand and ushered him back with a wave of her hand.

"You stay away from me," she spat, shaking her head. "I can't believe you have the nerve to act so damn happy!"

He frowned. "Well, why wouldn't I be? I'm back, and I'm not going to continue harming you, so-"

"You think I'm going to take your word for that? Ron, I'm your _wife_. You shouldn't have done those things to begin with- to anyone! You can't just go around hurting people like that."

The ginger's expression hardened. "Like I said, I'm not planning on doing anything like that again."

She kept her wand leveled with his chest. "I don't believe you."

"Well you should! I've never been cruel to you-"

"You're right, Ron, you haven't. You've just neglected me, your job, and your basic obligations to either of those. I make all the money, yet you spend it all. It's an uneven trade that I'm sick of! And after your actions last night I'm alarmed that you have the courage- or stupidity- to show your face around here! Oh, if I told Harry or Ginny-"

"They wouldn't believe you! Don't threaten ludicrous things!"

"Ludicrous? My, I'm surprised you even know the meaning of ludicrous! And if I showed them the mark on my neck I'm sure they would listen-"

He lunged at her, covering the short distance between them. In her panic she cast a spell to deflect him, sending him back and into the floor. He wasted no time in grabbing her thin ankles once there, pulling her down with him. She dropped her wand as her head hit the dresser beside her, causing her to see stars. She screamed, kicking at him as he clawed his way up her body.

"What do you think you're doing Ron? Stop this instant! You think this is the way you treat a person?"

He had her pinned to the ground, her body beneath his. "You just need to learn!" he snapped, holding down her shoulders. "Why don't you listen to me?! Why are you so hard-headed? We have plenty of money, love, so you don't need to worry." He used one of his hands to touch her cheek, and she bit him, flailing beneath his body.

"You're mad! Get up off of me!"

He glared at her, and for a moment she didn't process what happened next. He brought his hand up and struck her once, then twice across her face, stunning her. She lay in a daze.

"See? You just need to calm down Hermione."

She didn't respond as he got up off of her, dragging her to the bed. She was too stunned to do anything, horrified that this monstrosity had once been the wonderful man she had married. He pushed her on the bed, crawling in beside her to hold her close.

"There now. We can sleep."

Hermione didn't think she was going to sleep well.

* * *

Although the girl was quite scared by that point, she didn't let it show when Ron finally rolled over, untangling himself from her body to do so. She had been awake since he hit her, replaying the same scene over in her mind again and again. That couldn't be real.

She did everything for him- she brought in the money and made him nice meals- when the git was home. She did the laundry, paid the bills, went to additional meeting and jobs to keep them afloat when his spending habits got out of hand. She said nothing when she occasionally noted the soft whiff of perfume on his clothes, and pretended he was still perfect.

Obviously, she had been living in a delusion. Careful to not wake him, she crept from the bed and scurried across the floor to find her wand, thankful that she could get away from him at all. He cheeks stung still from the horrible slaps he had administered, crushing her image of him, and she knew that by then the mark on her neck would be visible by that point. Her back felt bruised; at the very least it was sore from Ron's attack on the rough floor, but she looked well enough to go somewhere, anywhere.

The problem was where she would go. She couldn't go to Harry's without telling the truth, and at that moment she couldn't imagine it going over well. Besides, he was supposed to find out in the morning whether his first born would be a boy or girl, and it would be horrid of her to crush that experience with the shattering reality of what her marriage had become. There was always Neville and Luna's, but the couple had taken to following the blonde girl's odd night rituals, and Hermione wasn't sure she wanted to know what they consisted of.

If she was desperate, she could always go and see if Seamus was around the club, but it was nearly two in the morning and she had never been there so late before. She could be stopped by anyone on the way there and be mistreated, and after dealing with Ron's idiocy she didn't think she could stomach that. Seamus was out.

_You could always stumble right on over to Malfoy Manor. Say you're going to the lab to do some work because you got inspired. Malfoy can't argue with you helping out more, can he? I could bring a bag and decide what to do in the morning. I'll just have to feed him a lie to keep the questions minimal, and if I tell him that Ron may follow, I'm sure he would not have an issue blocking him from coming there. He hates Ron and Harry as it is._

_Could I even do that? I'd be imposing on someone that just gave me a sensible line of work by secretly using his home to plan what to do next. But if I hold out there until after the appointment, then I can go over there after my Ministry job and just say things between myself and Ron are rocky. That would be a sustainable answer. _

_But Ron could get there-_

She cut her thoughts off when she heard the springs in the bedroom shift, and spun around to peer in the room, thankful to find him still asleep. Deciding to take things slowly and one step at a time, she cast a quiet spell to bring her a large purse-bag, quietly letting the magic open the drawers and bring over sets of clothing, her brushes, shampoo, slippers, shoes. It all magically fit inside, though she was careful to leave every article of clothing Ron had bought her over the course of her life. She wanted a fresh mind while she thought about how to handle him. She picked up her work briefcase on the way to the floo and shrank it down to fit in the bag as well before grabbing some powder.

The girl chanced a glance back at the bedroom. "What am I going to do with you Ron?" she asked quietly, before she dropped the powder. Calling out the name of the Manor, she wasn't sure if Ron woke to the noise or not.

* * *

Arriving, she noted a body jump up in the bed across the room. She cringed as the figure snatched up his wand and illuminated the space.

"Granger? What the bloody fuck are you doing here at this hour?! I thought I said the connection was for professional use only!"

She had barely stepped out of the floo when he stood as well, obviously having been lost in a fitful sleep. The shirt he wore was adored with sweat stains, and as he drew near she could tell that he had bags beneath pale eyes. His pajama bottoms were wrinkled, and she suspected that he had been haunted by some type of nightmares before her arrival.

"This _is_ a professional visit," she lied, ignoring the dark look in his eyes. "I've come to begin working."

He glanced at the clock. "Well, come back later- or tomorrow! It's barely three in the morning. It's too early to be conversing, or dealing with dangerous potion ingredients."

"Oh no," she said, stepping past him. "I'm quite awake and ready-"

"Is that what you call awake? Well fuck, Granger, then you must look like shit when you haven't slept. Your eyes are so red it's scary. Besides, won't sweet old Weasely miss your company? I get the feeling that you're not home much as it is."

She held back a groan at the mention of Ron. "He'll be fine," she insisted. "Now, I don't understand why you are being so difficult. If I'm willing to put more time into making your arm feel better then you should be the last one complaining."

"Depends, Granger; are you expecting to be paid for your overtime? That wasn't in the deal."

"Then don't pay me!" She spun away from him. "It's just something I want to do. Now if you'll excuse me, I would like to get started." The brunette began walking, expecting another rebut on his part. When she reached the bedroom door and he hadn't uttered a word again, she threw it open and walked out, hoping she remembered where the potion's room was.

For his part, Draco just studied her as she walked away. He thought it was odd that she showed up in the same clothing, looking just a bit terrified with a giant bag on her arm, and a briefcase poking out the top. He thought it was odd that her eyes were red like she had been crying.

Mostly, he wondered about the bruised marks marring both her shoulders and the red, infected looking bite on her neck.

* * *

She was asleep when he found her, bent over a table in a very uncomfortable looking position. Only one book sat at her side, and he got the feeling she really hadn't worked too hard on anything- not that he thought she was going to. He made his way around to where she was sitting, glancing at her attire again.

She looked awful, like she was scared out of her mind and had been dealing with something awful. He couldn't fathom what that would be, considering how picture perfect this woman's life was portrayed. Glancing at her hands, he noticed a ring. So she was married to the ginger? He couldn't recall if that had ever been in the tabloids.

He picked up the book beside her, closing it firmly before he dropped it on the table. She jolted awake, nearly toppling off her chair, but managed to save herself from falling by grabbing the table edge for dear life. It took a moment to remember why she was there, but as everything came back to her she set her head back down, groaning.

"Morning," she muttered to him, not bothering to push her hair out of her face. He huffed at that.

"Yes, morning, though I was under the impression that you would actually be awake while doing your research."

"I'm just a bit tired is all," the girl continued, lifting her head back up. He looked perturbed, and she quickly got off the chair. "I should probably get going to the Ministry though, my boss hates it when I don't come in exactly on time."

Draco inclined an eyebrow. "And when exactly is that?"

"Quarter to nine. It's been the same for a year."

"Granger, it's almost noon. I think you're late."

Her eyes widened. "What?! Merlin, my boss will kill me!" Forgetting that her bag contained her briefcase, she hurried past the blonde. "Why didn't you wake me up earlier?"

"I just woke up, Granger. Why would I bother waking up at nine if I can sleep to noon without a worry? Now would you stop running around? I'm sure that you don't need to go in at this hour. They probably already found someone to do your work."

"I won't get paid if I'm not there!" she spat, turning around. "And as we have discussed on countless occasions, Malfoy, I need my money."

He huffed. "I'll pay you to sit back down. Merlin Granger, you look as though you're about to pass out- or at the very least fall over. You need to rest. I don't want you destroying this room later when you actually try to do some decent work." He reached down to pick up the bag she had left by the table. "Besides, don't you need this? You would probably want to change those hideously wrinkled clothes. Although I can't fathom why you brought them here instead of just returning home." His eyes flashed to her neck, recalling those teeth marks as he spoke.

"Give me my bag then," she said, ignoring the better half of his speech. "I really do need to get going." She crossed back across the room, pausing in front of him as he lifted the bag out of reach.

"I will give it to you," he agreed, studying her. "I will, but only when you tell me why it looks like someone tried to eat you."

"What are you talking about?"

He used his other hand to brush her curls back, touching the infected cut as he did so. She scurried from his reach immediately with a loud hiss, eyes growing wide in horror as one hand came to cover her mouth. She had forgotten about the initial wound Ron left her, and now she had a curious blonde looking on at her with those haunting grey eyes.

_Now look what you've done to yourself. _


	16. Retrospect: Air

**A/n: **Ok so here's the newest chapter. We are finally going back to their school years, but on the bright side now the amount of chapters for past and present is equal at this point. :) But I think we will just have to switch back to the present soon so we can discover what older Draco is going to do about his little discovery…. Thanks to my beta **loveinthemadness**! And as always, check me out on facebook! The link is up on my profile.

* * *

The air was sticky, but not from humidity. Everywhere around him people were waiting, standing in the crowd of Death Eaters, preparing to attack Hogwarts. And everyone near him was sweaty with nerves. He felt like a traitor, returning to a school where many not only believed he was responsible for the former headmaster's death, but also with the intention of fighting against former classmates. Sure, he never really liked the majority of them to begin with, but returning to perhaps kill some of them left an unsettling churning feeling in the pit of his stomach. He refused to stand in his father's rapture at this onslaught; the man who stood beside him. Of course Lucius would never beam down with any sort of pride, nowadays, at his son, but the blonde was smart enough to know that his father would be eager to discuss things before the battle commenced. He just didn't want to deal with it.

After the barrier around Hogwarts was shattered, Voldemort's forces stormed down to attack the awaiting army. He didn't hurry down as quickly, but then Draco had realized a long time ago that he was never meant to be a killer. He just couldn't stomach it. The boy might have a strong hate for most of society, but he didn't want to spill red blood. The sight of the dead made him want to lose the contents of his stomach.

He lost his friends someplace in the crowds on the way down. There were too many eager killers rushing forward, and he simply did not move fast enough. He found himself at the back of the progression by the time he got to the entrance, and even then he didn't survey much. If he could find a less dense place to pause, he could possibly avoid everyone until some form of victory came from this. This was Potter's battle, not his own. He had high doubts that any contribution on either side would make much of a difference.

Slipping away was actually easy when no one was searching for him. His father and aunt resided elsewhere within the battlefield and- after years of wandering the castle and avoiding prefects- he had found a hidden tunnel that led to the upper grounds. Ensuring that no one was following, he swooped into the entrance and made to go up.

Draco never saw it coming. He was walking one moment and the next he was on his knees, gasping as a wicked spell coursed through his body, seemingly collapsing all the organs in his torso. He sank into the floor, his wand immediately discarded as it became difficult to breathe. This was a spell he knew, but in that moment he just couldn't think straight.

Behind him, a voice spoke in the small room. "And I actually thought that you would live up to your name."

Gasping for air, he closed his eyes. It was his father's voice; a distasteful tone laced with venom. He must've seen his young look alike attempting to avoid fighting, and actually took down his own flesh and blood. The idea was appalling, and as he began to feel like his insides were going to burst, the voice spoke again.

"We were going to regain our name, Draco; bring it up from the pit in which careless bastards like you have cast it into. I may not be the most adequate of parents, but I know what my moral obligation is to my ancestors, and that is to keep the Malfoy name in good fortune. But with you running off like a blasted coward, it simply won't happen. You're a disgrace-"

The sentence cut off, and as he felt everything about to break some unknown force lifted the spell and he gasped, sucking in air quickly as his organ painfully expanded in his now constricted chest, again making him feel as though he would burst. The inflation and deflation of his innards couldn't be healthy, and as he gained back the ability to think he grasped his wand again. He wasn't sure who had just saved his life, but he figured his father would have some nasty tricks up his sleeve as a thank you for being interrupted during a kill. Stumbling to his feet, he used the nearby wall to support him enough to stand and swiveled to survey whatever was happening behind him.

And low and behold, there was Hermione fucking Granger dueling his father. Perhaps it was the burning ringing in his head, but he couldn't hear either casting any spells. He shook his head once, twice, trying to straighten things out. Everything was blurry and he remained light headed, but he could see enough now to know that his father had to be using unscrupulous magic. The blonde could see a twisted grin etch its way onto his father's face. Draco's vision was hazy, but knew that countenance couldn't be good. Lucius only ever had that expression if he truly believed he was winning.

Draco really thought it would be a shame to let Granger die after she saved his life. He knew it was a foolish choice the moment it crossed his mind, but he didn't care. He took a blind aim at his _father_ through the unfocused vision, and was more than a bit surprised when he hit his target and Lucius hit the ground, stunned.

There was a moment of silence between the time when he slouched against the wall and when she ran up to him, shoving him back into the nearly concealed spot again. Hermione didn't recall this passage, but it seemed that even the slightest trick of the light hid it from one's vision. The girl wasn't even sure for a moment as she barreled into Malfoy that the space was there at all. But they fell through the opening, a spell sent by an unknown source just missing her neck as they tumbled.

The brunette fell on top of him, and for a second neither even bothered attempting to move. But once his lungs began getting tight he shoved her off, his body still offset from the near death experience.

"I never thought I would see you help me in a time like this," he muttered.

She glanced down at him as she regained her balance, and frowned. "You could always just be polite and say thank you instead of turning this into an argument."

"Why would I do that Granger?" he asked, forcing his body to sit upright. The world was still spinning, but as he leaned back against the wall he closed his eyes. Hopefully that would help get things to even out.

"Never mind," she sighed, rubbing her forehead. Turning away, she peeked back through the narrow opening between sturdy stone walls at two people battling. "Why don't they see us in here?"

"It's magic," he snapped. "This castle is full of it. I used to use this passage all the time during school; it breaks off into all sorts of places within the castle."

Hermione frowned. "Why does this matter to you then? If this were an attack strategy for your side, wouldn't more people be along to assist?"

He shrugged, reopening his eyes. "Does it really make a difference? Now do you mind moving along? I have better things to do than to share my hiding place with you."

That quickly caught her attention. "Hiding place? You mean, you're back here for your own protection."

Silently, he cursed himself for his own careless tongue. "So what if I am? It just makes one less fucking Death Eater for your side to handle, am I right? You should just be happy that I'm not looking to pick a battle with you. Of all the things you could've done just now, that was completely foolish. Honestly Granger, whoever told you to save the lives of your enemies?"

Her expression hardened. "I thought perhaps it would be polite since you looked like you were going to die. I didn't come back here looking for help, I was being followed. Maybe you missed that while you were attempting to catch your bloody breath. You're father barely missed me with the killing curse and hit one of your own men. I used that second to throw a spell your way and see if you were alive. At the time, I didn't even know it was you; this narrow opening and the shadows hid your face. For all I knew you were someone from the Order."

"Glad to see I'm in your good graces after what I did for you the last time we met," he hissed, glaring at her in return now. "I didn't have to get you out; I could've followed my orders and gotten whatever I wanted from you. And I could've told them all that it was Potter sitting in my home, but I didn't, did I? Neither did my mother, nor my father. You should be grateful that you weren't turned into some sort of slave like so many others like you. You think what happened was bad? _I_ kept the worst from happening to you all. I'm glad my actions last time reflect so well on your thoughts of me now."

To this, she did look slightly guilty. "I didn't know it was you at first," she argued again. "I just thought I would help whoever was in trouble. Now that I do know it was you, it makes us even."

He chuckled softly. "Even? I saved your life, Potter's, Weasley's and whoever those gits were in my dungeons. One life is not equivalent to five or six."

"Don't be cocky," she argued in return as he stood and struggled to his feet. "Now we need to separate. No one can see us speaking like this; it'll cause major problems."

"No one can," he argued, grabbing her arm. She paused, and he pointed out the narrow crack to more people doing, completely unaware of their presence less than ten feet away. "Like I said, it takes the right light and unless you're really looking for something, it doesn't work. I found this place while trying to look for something else entirely, but the point is I was looking."

Hermione nodded, gently brushing his grip off. "I see. Well, we can't linger here. It will be hard enough to slip out of here without becoming immediate targets."

"Yes it will," he agreed, and she looked back at him to say goodbye. The large hideous cut on the side of his face made her pause though. "What?"

She reached up, gently touching the wound. He caught her wrist, looking into your eyes. "Our tumble seems to have hurt you."

"I'll survive," he snapped, shoving her hand away. "I left marks on you; you owe nothing to me now, so don't pretend to act like you care. We'll both just go on our merry ways and forget this encounter ever happened. Besides, at the very least, Weasley has to be wondering about you."

But she wasn't listening, and instead pulled out her wand and quickly cast a spell, watching the bloody mark heal quickly. He said nothing, not even a thank you for her thoughtfulness. But what did she expect? They never thanked each other for anything.

As she turned to step back into the battle, he grasped her shoulders and kept her steady. "Someday, Granger," he snapped, glancing over her head once at the ongoing fights, "Someday I'll repay you for saving my life. I owe you now." He gave her a shove in the direction of war.

She stumbled, but didn't go out. Her eyes remained fixated on him, questions obviously wanting to pop out of her mouth. "You don't owe me; I just didn't want to see another person die."

"Oh, but I am indebted somewhat," he replied. "If we ever meet again, and your life is slipping through the cracks, I might just be obliged to help you."

Hermione didn't know what to say to that; what to make of his offer. Instead, she nodded once and mouthed a thank you to him, before beckoning with her hand that it was time to go back to fighting. She turned and rushed back into the hands of war, expecting the blonde to follow suit a few moments later as they split apart.

Yet he remained behind the barrier, watching the girl duel anyone who got too close. She really was brave; she could really fight. But he didn't force himself to go back out there, he couldn't; he had never been exceedingly brave.

_I can't watch all of this. I'm a coward. _

He couldn't watch the ground turn red, nor could he watch the brunette fighting. She moved on, disappearing past his vision someplace else in the castle. For a few moments the space before him was clear, and he could've easily stepped out and rejoined the battle.

And he remained where he was, his tail between his legs. He didn't want to stomach any of it, to be responsible for another's life. Instead he turned his back, sinking into the floor to wallow in pathetic self-pity while those only meters away were killed.

_Coward, coward, coward. When are you going to grow up and have something worthy of fighting for?_

* * *

**A/n: **Short break from the present to look back at this! Don't worry; we'll get back to Hermione and Draco's conversation in the next chapter! As of this chapter being posted I haven't fixed the other chapters yet that fluctuate between Hermione being married and just in a relationship. Still working on that! Leave a comment if you could :D


	17. Aftermath: Owl

**A/n: **Another update! I hope you like it, and I'll keep the updates coming as best I can! There will be some edits happening to this story though sine there are things that contradict each other so if the updates do become slower for a bit that would be why! As I go through I'll let you know what has been changed, just in case it's something you want to reread. The changes won't be major though! Thanks to my beta **loveinthemadness**! And as always, check me out on facebook! The link is up on my profile.

* * *

She felt suffocated under his gaze. His eyes didn't let up, and though she wouldn't look into them she still felt them on her, scrutinizing, searching, waiting for an answer. But all she could do was stare down at the floor, cursing herself for her own stupidity. If she wouldn't tell her own friends about Ron's unusual behavior why on earth would she tell Draco Malfoy of all people?

"Well?" he asked at length when she refused to give him an answer. Her eyes looked back up to meet his own, the grey orbs curiously searching her face. He couldn't pick answers out of her expression no matter what he did. He could only see that this was something he wasn't supposed to notice.

_You're not very good at hiding things, are you, Granger?_

"It's nothing," she said after a moment, ignoring Malfoy's penetrating gaze again. "A bit of a misunderstanding, but nothing serious-"

"That bite mark is infected, and more importantly it's a _bite_ mark. It looks like a lover's kiss gone wrong, Granger; I would assume the dog would've just eaten your neck if that's the next lie you're going to feed me. So Granger, what did actually happen? There seems to be very little you can say that won't come across as a lie."

Inside, she cursed. If Malfoy would just drink a little and not have so many of his wits about him then there wouldn't be a problem right now. He would easily buy her lies. But of course he was irritated for being intruded on that morning and more importantly he had found something to bother her with. She hated that she had carelessly let him see the mark and gotten herself into this situation to begin with.

_If you had just stayed away this would not be a problem. You should've just hidden in the bathroom until Ron left. That ring is on your finger for a reason; he will pursue you. He may not think to look here but he will come looking at some point. Why run away when it causes little issues like this and will only make him madder when I return._

_Come to think of it, why is he being so angry lately? He was never like that before._

Quickly she shook her head, discarding the rest of her thoughts. Malfoy was still looking on at her, expecting an answer. And ducking her head would do her no good, so what was she supposed to do? Keep spitting out weak lies?

When she spent to long considering her words, he spoke for her. Reaching out again, he gripped her shoulder tight enough to keep her from running but not bad enough to leave any sort of mark. With the other hand he brushed the infection again and she pressed her lips together. "Looks like someone was pretty angry with you."

"No," she said quickly, too quickly. One of his eyebrows shot up.

"Granger, if I leaned forward right now and bit your skin, then pulled away and took some of your flesh with me I would leave the same exact wound. Don't lie to me, especially after you maneuvered your way through the floo and took advantage of my open fireplace to find yourself an excellent hiding place. If you are going to hide from someone, at least inform me. This is still my Manor, even if I did foolishly open up my connections to you. I'm beginning to regret that choice if this is what will wake me up every day."

She tore out of his grip, repositioning her hair and clothes. "It's nothing," she muttered. "I have everything handled- and I am not hiding here!"

He scoffed, turning away with a shake of his head. "Oh, of course you're not. Well Granger, since you've decided to use my generosity to your fucking advantage you may as well be of some use and start working on a cure to my mark!" He didn't wait for a response and walked out of the room, slamming the door behind him. In his wake, he left a trembling witch.

_He's digging way too close to the truth._

* * *

Hermione did not come out of that room after his departure. Realizing he could have some peace for a bit, he quickly made his way to his room and attempted to find some more sleep within his sheets. That idea quickly became a myth. His mind was working too hard to figure out just what was going on now and wouldn't settle back down.

He rolled on his back and groaned. This was aggravating; he had better things to do then wonder about her problems, _again._ He had spent enough time doing that when he found her working at a pub to make ends meet and offered her a job. Sure, it had been for his own personal gain, but she had to feel less dirty wandering around a big open room with potion ingredients versus a bar where men would constantly touch her. He still didn't understand how someone as stiff as Granger could tolerate an atmosphere like that.

That didn't change anything though; she had still worked there even if it was uncomfortable, all to help support a livelihood with a man that he felt she didn't even love. And if she did, then she was a fool. Who would love someone that made your life so difficult? But above that, he was nearly certain that Weasley was responsible for the grotesque mark on her skin. Whatever had been going on between them at the time to leave suck an ugly blemish must've been bad, or he doubted it would exist.

_So were they arguing, or is this a routine habit of the ginger to hurt her? It could've been someone from the pub; she could always be lying about having quit. But why? I don't understand why she would let either circumstance progress to physical violence. So perhaps that does rule out the bar, because what's-his-nuts is there- unless he was gone for some reason when this happened. So it could still be the Weasel. _

He knew he was spending way too much time puzzling over that, but couldn't help it. Usually people who suffered from domestic violence did an excellent job of concealing the fact. So perhaps this was something that had only just began for some reason, and thus Granger had yet to master the art of concealment.

Rubbing his eyes, Draco thought back to his last years of Hogwarts, the years when life really began taking a toll on his physical self and mental stability. When he accepted the Dark Mark, precautions were taken to conceal it, among other _unwanted_ designs on his skin from the student body. He wore long robes all the time, even long button down shirts when it was hot. She could've always worn a turtleneck to hide the evidence, yet she opted not to. It would be easy to configure a piece of clothing into a hideous makeshift one, and if she was going to be so secretive then she should've tried. Was she just panicked when she rushed over to the Manor?

_Well, she certainly seemed a bit shaken. Something was wrong, and you knew it from the moment she stepped in. Her lies don't outweigh her actions, and her mind isn't in the right place apparently to conceal her fear about what happened. Even if Weasley is an inconsiderate jerk, I get the feeling that she still would've told him if something truly had gone amiss at the bar._

_So that leaves Weasley as the abuser. _

Draco closed his eyes, settling further into the sheets. Well if that was the case, it was no wonder that she didn't go to Potter's bloody house. How would she ever explain that his best mate was literally abusing her? Even that small mark was too far; you don't attack your wife, daughter, or any woman for that matter.

If only more people understood that.

* * *

She didn't attempt to speak to Draco again. Instead she mindlessly worked in his lab, throwing together numerous- occasionally dangerous- combinations just to see if she could figure out something even minutely close to the piece before her- his salve. So far she had no luck, and it had been two hours since Malfoy departed.

It was frustrating to know that he was getting a rise and some answers from her without her even saying a word. Not only was he being too observant for anyone's good, but he was being his usual prick self. If nothing else at least he had dropped the topic at present. She didn't want to hear his taunts later when she acknowledged that she had indeed been attacked. If he abused her during school there was no way he would pity her now. Just because he offered her a way to escape the club life didn't mean he knew how to be generous. His offer did after all only stand to benefit him. She scowled into the table as she thought about that. No matter what he always seemed to remain to be the crude arsehole he had always been. Would her perception of him ever change?

Steady tapping alerted her that something was near, and she glanced around to notice an owl patting the window with his beak. Glancing around, she wondered if perhaps the letter was for Malfoy, but that didn't really make any sense. He had plenty of windows in his room, so why would it come to this room.

A quick scan confirmed that she was still alone. Moving to the window, she let the creature in. It was odd to get mail at Malfoy's address, but as she recognized the bird in the light her heart sank. She knew who was owling her, and she was not at all appreciative for the letter.

Half of her didn't even care to open the note. She had no reason to speak to him just then, so why read what he sent her? But the other part of her wanted to know if the git even knew how to apologize, and regrettably she opened the note.

_Hermione~_

_I'm being quite stupid, aren't I? I can't believe that I hurt you. But what you have done is far worse. Walking out in the middle of the night? Are you mad?! Who's house have you gone to now? I knew that outfit I caught you in was to appease another man! You cheating whore, why would you do this? I don't understand what I have done to have lost your fucking affections, but this is just ridiculous. We're married for Crice's sake! What will our friends say when they hear that you sleep around? Or worse, when they hear that you're spending your time at another man's house? Come home this instant! I will not stand for this disrespect. I am nothing but good to you, yet you walked out so quickly. Mark my words Hermione, there will be plenty to discuss when meet next!_

_Come home darling. It's time we had a serious talk._

_~Ron_

She threw the letter down on the table, disgusted with her husband. He thought that he never mistreated her? Well, he must be delusional then! And the fact that he so quickly assumed she was selling herself was hurtful. Did he really believe she had no respect for herself at all? The brunette flopped back on the chair, discouraged.

_He's crazy_.

Hermione dreaded the idea of speaking to Ron at all. He obviously no longer had any moral barriers and would not hesitate to beat upon her if things didn't work out in his favor. That meant that unless she could get him to meet in a public place, he could have the same chance to hurt her again. But she could slowly feel her marriage deteriorating every minute she sat in Malfoy's home, and it was depressing. They had been together for nearly three years, and now everything was falling to pieces in an overly complicated whirlwind of issues.

She didn't see a way to save the relationship she was in, nor did she want to. Ron was changing the longer his popularity remained, and it hurt her heart. Setting her head back on the table, she signed. Now what would she do?

Closing her eyes, she willed the world to go away. It was just too much right now.

* * *

After wasting far too much time worrying about Hermione, Draco actually got up and did something with his day. He dropped the girl from his mind, deciding to go and spend a day with Blaise talking business and money. It was pleasant and got his mind off the girl's arrival the night before.

When he finally did return to the Manor that night, he expected her to be gone. Why in Merlin's name would she remain? The problems with her spouse had to be handled somehow- or whoever it was- and he was determined that she probably wouldn't be there. They weren't particularly friends, so why would she want to stay in his presence so long?

He was still determined, though, to figure out what was going on. But first his curiosity was kicking in and he wanted to know if any progress had been made. If so, there was probably something to observe in the lab and he was eager to check it out. After disrobing down to some slacks and a fitted shirt, he walked down the hall to the lab.

Opening the door, he was not at all prepared to be attacked by a bird. Nearly killing the creature with his wand before he realized what it was, he cursed beneath his breath. Where the hell did that come from?

His eyes slid to the table, and he frowned. She was sleeping there again, in the same position she had been that morning. Didn't the girl ever get tired of resting like that? Walking over to wake her, he paused as his eyes landed on some paper. Glancing at the bird again- which probably had not been fed in many hours- he connected two and two together and realized it had to be a note.

_Well, well. Maybe this will shed some light on the situation Granger. You are using my home as a hideout as I said earlier, and now you are trying to sleep here again. Perhaps if I read what is in here, I'll understand why_ _you are here a bit better. _

Flipping the paper over, he quickly scanned the contents, his eyebrows shooting higher and higher on his forehead. When he finished, he glanced back down at the girl and had second thoughts about moving her to out of the building entirely.

_Sounds like you have some relationship problems there Granger. I could be of assistance, but using this to my advantage sounds much better. Just you wait Granger; I'm going to figure out all of your secrets. There will be nothing left to hide from me. _


	18. Aftermath: Notice

**A/n: **Another update! I hope you like it, and I'll keep the updates coming as best I can! There will be some edits happening to this story though sine there are things that contradict each other so if the updates do become slower for a bit that would be why! As I go through I'll let you know what has been changed, just in case it's something you want to reread. The changes won't be major though! Thanks to my beta **loveinthemadness**! And as always, check me out on facebook! The link is up on my profile.

* * *

She awoke when her body finally fell off the stool and hit the floor. It hurt like hell and jarred her quickly into consciousness, but at least she was conscious. The fact that light was drifting in front outside was alarming, and she quickly realized she had been asleep against that stupid table yet again. It appeared to be morning now, and she was wasting too much time at Malfoy's home. He was bound to get curious, and as she scrambled to her feet she cursed herself for having fallen asleep. Yesterday she hadn't made it to her Ministry job, and today she would be late. Collecting the meager amount of items she had brought with, she hurried to leave. On her way out of the room she spotted an owl and stopped dead in her tracks.

_Ron's owl. Shit, I never responded to his letter! _

Whirling around, she scanned the table before her. It was barren, and her heart quickly dropped. There had certainly been a letter there last night. Suddenly very panicked about its current location, she dropped to her hands and knees and began scrambling around in search of it. When nothing came up, she emptied all of the contents of her bag onto the floor.

"You seem a bit terrified this morning Granger," a voice called, startling her. She jumped up- leaving her mess on the floor- to glance at Malfoy who had walked through the open door. His eyes were piercing, and she glared up at him. Immediately, she knew what had happened.

"Give me my letter," she demanded, extending a hand.

He raised an eyebrow. "You certainly are temperamental in the mornings. Maybe you should eat something."

"I don't have time to eat something! I'm late for work-"

"Ah yes, about that. You see, I called you off this morning."

She felt her arms go limp, and she stopped pointing fingers at him. The fact that he had called her off was startling, but how he did so was far more confusing. He wasn't family, so he couldn't do that. And really, who had someone else call them out from work once you reach the age of twenty? She just stood there gaping at him, unsure what exactly to say to that.

"You… I don't… why? Why on earth would you call me out of work Malfoy?" she asked at length, still standing there like a noodle. "I miss enough work lately, and now… and now you're calling me off? My boss is going to fire me! He's going to think I took the day off to have an affair, since you are quite obviously not Ron."

"No, I'm not," he agreed, "Though the Weasel will be the topic of our conversation today I believe. Don't look so startled Granger; the confused look really doesn't work for you. Don't worry about your job; I called in inquiring about your hours and some ditz of a girl answered the floo, figured out who I was and had a fit. She would've told me anything I wanted to know, but instead I just asked her to tell them that you called into work today. She got right on that, after letting out a very unappealing fit of laughter."

Hermione cringed at his description. She knew exactly who he was talking about, but didn't bother mentioning her. Honestly, why should she care so much about the girl? Malfoy got her called out of work, so it wasn't like that would change at all. Reluctantly looking up at him, she huffed.

"I will not be discussing my husband with you over breakfast."

"Now see," he said, beckoning for her to walk into the hall. She did so, glaring at him as she went. "You use the term husband loosely. If things were going splendidly amongst you and your supposed sweet, would you really continue to fall asleep at the table in my lab, when a warm bed with a hideous ginger awaits you at home?" He attempted to remove that image from his mind as they walked. "Something tells me all is not well in paradise."

"Why do you care?" she asked, genuinely confused. Malfoy did not seem like the type of person to simply extend help to a person when-so-ever it appeared that they needed it, yet here he was offering to be of service to her.

"Usually, I wouldn't, Granger," he admitted. "I wouldn't at all. People's love lives are fucked up to begin with, and I usually try to keep myself as far away from those affairs as possible. However, you did show up here pretty jittery that night. And since then you have found creative ways to avoid going home, but not outside. When I told you that you could just leave whenever, you fell asleep in the lab. Now why would you do that?" He stopped her just outside the dining room. His hand came up to touch the spot Ron had bitten her. "I'm willing to bet you're hiding yourself away from a beast."

She tore away from him, putting a few steps of distance between them. "You don't know anything about Ron, much less our relationship! Don't imply anything that you cannot back up."

"Oh, but I can back this up, Granger," he said, recalling the letter she had now forgotten. "In school Weasley had a high temper, and he was always willing to jump and attack whoever had gotten on his nerves. He was a hothead, and from the rumors that float around London, not much has changed. Who's to say he's not the one making you bleed?"

Hermione shoved him away again when he tried to touch her. "Can't you mind your own business Malfoy? Don't worry about me and my husband so much."

To that, he had to stop her. He lurched forward and grabbed her shoulders, causing them to stumble back into the wall. She moved to snatch her wand, but he stopped her. "I'll start minding my own business Granger, when you stop showing up at my house looking scared out of your fucking mind with marks across your skin. And when your husband learns to control what he fucking writes, maybe I'll believe you that it's nothing to worry about."

Her movements stilled. "What are you talking about?" She had a feeling she knew what he meant, but she didn't want to admit it.

"I found your letter," he breathed, watching her face for reactions. "The one Weasley sent you? I found it last night when I went to check the lab and see why you were still around. You were asleep, and I was curious. I'm not sure exactly what you did to make your supposed beloved so angry, but I doubt he would be pleasant to meet up with." He bent a hair closer to her. "Now tell me, Granger, are my assumptions of your relationship really that off? It sounds more abusive than anything else."

Hermione struggled in his grip a moment before he let her go and she slid down the wall into the floor. He remained standing for several moments before joining her on the floor when he noted that her shoulders had begun to shake.

"I didn't mean to make you cry Granger," he finally relented. "I'm only telling you what I know from what I see."

She whipped away the stray tear that adorned her cheek; the only one present that gave him the impression she was crying. Sure, it was horrifying to think he could so easily figure her out, but he wasn't scaring her with his knowledge. Most of it seemed to be building off the idea that she would tell him the truth, and that seemed fairly farfetched. He must truly believe she had few options regarding what to do about Ron if he thought she was going to confess much to him.

But the reality of it was, he was right, wasn't he? She didn't have a lot of people to confide in about this dilemma. Ginny and Harry were out for obvious reasons, but Luna and Neville? Neville got uncomfortable with situations that involved relationships conflicts, and he really wasn't that great at giving advice on them no matter how sweet he was. Luna, well Luna might be one of her best friends, but she was also extremely close friends with Ginny, and though the girl was trustworthy if Hermione ever told her anything too severe the blonde girl had a tendency to tell the ginger so they could gang up on her and make sure she was alright. But if Luna leaked the story this time things would be different. It was Ron who would be the problem, no one else. And how would Ginny take it if she figured out what had happened.

"It doesn't make you wrong," she said quietly. "Ron's been… different recently."

"Only recently? When I saw you two at the store the other day, I couldn't tell you were married. He acted more like your bossy, rude boyfriend than someone you have married. I didn't really even make the connection until I saw the ring on your finger. I never did pay attention to other people's relationship statuses after all unless I felt the need to."

She shrugged slowly. "It hasn't been the ideal relationship for some time Malfoy. Ron's always angry, or drinking. He doesn't like the way people treat him at his job, so he doesn't go. He thinks we will magically pull money out of our arses like we used to when the war funds still existed, but we don't anymore. When we received money for our contributions to the fall of Voldemort, out summative costs were grand. We could've both have gone to excellent schools with that amount, but he was ready to be an Auror and jumped right in. He wanted to defend people, but mostly he wanted to party. When he started being careless, I had to drop my goal of going to a major school and getting a degree in order to pay rent as the money disappeared in large quantities. The Ministry hired me right off, but I don't make enough in my position. My job isn't even something I really enjoy, I just do it. And, I don't know. The more Ron drinks and parties the more trouble he gets into, and the more enemies he makes. The people at work don't exactly like him, and that rubs him the wrong way. He just got more and more unhappy as time went on. But, I don't know. I never figured he would physically hurt me."

"Most people that end up getting hurt don't Granger. At least that's the only mark he's left on you."

She nearly said something, but held her tongue and ducked her head. She didn't think it would exactly make matters better to mention that he'd hit her more than a few times. The blonde man beside her seemed uncharacteristically bothered by the actions as it was, and she just didn't want to mention anything else right then.

"Yes, thankfully," she muttered. If he picked up on her uncertainty there he didn't show it, and continued right on speaking.

"But if you honestly tell me you're thinking of going back to that so called home of yours then you're batty. Going back is suicide. He seemed less than pleased to not have you there now, and I doubt things would get better just because you return. You'd be black and blue in minutes is what I figure."

Her head shot up. "Then what do you suppose I do? As you've said I can't just continue to sleep on the table in your lab. I'm going to have to return home at some point."

He just chuckled, drawing her complete attention. "Oh Granger, you're missing the point. You think I'm going to be able to sleep tonight if all I'm thinking about is the fact that I sent you home to an abuser? No! You're not going to have to worry about the lab, because I have another room you can stay in, one which Weasley will never try to enter."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at that, slightly afraid of what exactly he meant.


	19. Aftermath: Bleeding

**A/n: **This chapter's a bit different, but here it is. Rated for**violence**. This is the only warning for this chapter! Thanks to my beta **loveinthemadness**! And as always, check me out on facebook! The link is up on my profile.

* * *

"I'm not sleeping in your bed," she stated loudly from behind him. They were walking down the hall back towards where she thought his room was, and after his last statement she was concerned. He mentioned that he had a room for her that Ron would never try to enter, but she didn't want it to be his room!

The blonde scoffed. "As if I would want you to ,Granger. You might've grown into that hair of yours, but you're still not my type. Besides, you're a married woman. Why ever would I want to get myself tangled up with you?"

She rolled her eyes. "You're offering to help me; you're already getting yourself wrapped into this problem."

Draco stopped walking and turned to look at her. "I'm not getting caught up emotionally, Granger, so I'm not involved with you. I'm merely keeping you away from some abusive twat."

The brunette refused to flinch at his words, despite the truth in them. Instead of replying to his snarky comment, she waited patiently for him to turn and continue walking. He finally did, and she could only sigh in relief. That topic really wasn't something she wanted to discuss.

They passed his room, walking down three more doors on the same side before he stopped. Opening the door, she was slightly surprised at what she found. Due to old impressions of how Malfoy really was, she was startled to find that the room wasn't dreary and consisting of chains to keep her from wandering the structure. But instead the room was a pale green, with grey and white accents. Truly Slytherin, but did she expect anything else?

She turned from her spot in the entrance to glance at him. "What's the price for accepting this room?" she asked, holding his gaze.

"What do you mean, Granger?"

"You know what I mean, Malfoy. Everything with you has some sort of strings attached. So what are the strings here? I'm already making you a salve for your Dark Mark; what else do you expect me to offer?"

He shrugged. "Nothing. Watching Weasley panic over your whereabouts will be repayment enough."

She said no more to him about that simply pursed her lips. When she declared that she would indeed go to work the following day, he only replied that she needed to work on the salve again. She waved him off, saying she would handle it sometime tonight.

When he was gone she fell on the bed. How did she ever let her life get so horrible, to the point where her enemy's home becomes her hiding place? She didn't know, and she didn't understand.

_Will I really let myself stay though, if I hear word that Ron is panicking about my disappearance? I don't want to scare him…_

* * *

Work the next day was exceptionally awkward. Upon arriving she found out she had an overabundance of letters and too many assignments to consider. She hurried into her small office room, unable to stand the boring eyes of every person within a breathing distance. She couldn't comprehend what exactly had drawn everyone's attention to her.

The answer came when she began reading her letters. She expected notices from her bosses about assignments or letters from her friends, but something in the back of her mind had been telling her since she arrived that at least one of them had to be from Ron.

And she wasn't wrong. But forty-six letters was a bit ridiculous. She made a pile of the absurd mail on one side of her desk, and then went on to look at everything else first. By lunch all the other letters were read through and answered in some way, and she had yet to leave her office again. Perhaps that was better though; she could avoid people this way.

A sudden knock drew her from her thoughts, and after muttering to the person that they could come in, she glanced back at the letters. Each had her name printed across the front in red ink, all written in the same script.

"Hello Hermione," the voice said, catching her attention. She looked up to see Collin, the man that worked in the office just beside hers- the same one that had been with them during her years at Hogwarts. He was still trying to break into the reporting business, but for now he worked in the same department she did. "Haven't seen you around the last few days."

"Oh, yes," she said, reaching back to rub her head. "I've had a few too many things to handle, but for right now I'm back and ready to work. Hopefully I can get everything resolved soon."

"Good to hear," he replied, letting his eyes drift from her face. She frowned, and fidgeted beneath his gaze as his eyes continued to drift lower. Thankfully the desk she sat behind hid everything from her mid torso and lower, but the shirt she had carelessly thrown on that morning was not the best office wear. Indeed, it was slightly lower than she would like to normally wear to the Ministry, and did reveal a hint of cleavage. She hadn't even thought it would be that big of a deal for just the one day, until Collin started looking at her like that. Unconsciously she reached up and placed her hand above the neckline of the shirt, hiding the valley between her breasts from sight.

"Something I can help you with?" she asked, putting an edge into her tone. She wanted to make it very clear that she did not appreciate his inappropriate ogling.

His eyes snapped up again, and he reached behind him to shut her office door. The girl's hand moved down her leg, to where he couldn't see and felt her wand poking out of the flat boots she had thrown on that morning. He was going to mind his distance, whether he wanted to or not.

Collin rubbed his chin. "You know, Hermione, Ron came by yesterday."

Her eyes flashed briefly, but she masked any sign of surprise and concern hopefully before he caught onto how uncomfortable she now was. "Oh? And what did he want?"

The boy titled his head. "Actually, he was searching this part of the Ministry for you. It was a bit surprising, considering the fact that you're married." He walked forward as he spoke, stopping in front of her desk. "Made me wonder exactly why he was searching to begin with."

She held his gaze. "I don't think that's any of your concern."

"Well of course it is! You're one of my friends Hermione, so I wanted to know why he was fretting so much. I thought the same thing, that he should check at home. But then he brought me in here, so we could talk, see? And guess what he told m,e Hermione."

Hermione grit her teeth; she wasn't sure she wanted to know. Ron could be making up horrid lies about her; he seemed to be good at that. Or worse, he could be telling the truth about her.

Well, part of the truth.

When she made no move to respond, he leaned forward across the desk and she leaned back. "He told me he thinks you're sleeping around. He told me about some tight little outfit he came home to one day, and you weren't even trying to seduce him while wearing it. I tell you Hermione, he's pretty mad that you dress like that for other people but not for him. It would make any man mad."

She stood up quickly, placing her wand behind her back with one hand. "I don't believe my husband should be telling just anyone about what I wear in the privacy of my own bloody home! What I choose to wear is my decision, and he has no reason to be telling everyone about it. He doesn't know the full story, and neither do you, so I would appreciate it if you would drop the topic!" Her cheeks were flushed, and she could feel her heart rate picking up as she spoke. He was trying to get around the desk now, slowly creeping towards her, and she didn't like it one bit. Moving in the opposite direction, she turned up her nose and steeled her confidence. "Now if you would excuse me, I have much better things to do than to be bothered by you. I am far behind in my work, and I would appreciate-"

Her sentence got cut off when he jumped her, shoving a hand around her mouth to keep her from making a sound. She moved to pull her wand out, but he saw it coming and threw them both into the ground, locking her arm against his stomach.

She bit his fingers, but he did not relent. Flipping her over, he looked down into her eyes. "You're never going to learn to be obedient, are you?"

Immediately, she recognized the change in his demeanor. Now things had moved from being about whether or not she was acting like a slut, to whether or not she could be obedient. As her wand flew across the room, she recognized the person beneath the mask and it fueled her anger.

"I should've known it was you! Collin isn't a creep!" She spat at him, hitting the disguised face of her husband. He wiped the liquid away without a care.

He smirked down at her. "Well, why would Collin bother? Everyone knows you're with me, so why would he try to get with you? I expected you to drop to your knees the moment I started bringing up the topic, but you surprised me pet. You actually held yourself back."

She shook her head from beneath him. "Ron, I've told you! I'm not cheating on you; I'm not twisted."

He reached down, slapping her like he had before. When the contact was gone, she did not look back up at the man she was supposed to share her life with. She let her head remain facing to the left, the slight copper taste of blood in her mouth dulling her senses.

"Who are you?! You're not the man I married!"

The ginger forced his weight down on her, getting his face nearer to hers. It slightly knocked the wind out of her, but she did not look back at him. "I'm the same person Hermione; you're the one that changed. Now, I'm going to get up, and you're going to come with me. No more games."

A moment passed before the weight disappeared off her frame, but for Hermione it did nothing to help her spirits. Even at work, she couldn't hide from him. Things had gotten bad so quickly, and now she didn't know what to think of him.

When she didn't move off the ground, he hauled her to her feet. She looked up at him with a dazed expression, unable to believe it was Ron. He was honestly using Polyjuice to find her at work? And she had only been gone from their home a few meager days; what would he do if she didn't return?

"Ron, what are you doing? Do you realize these are ridiculous measures?"

He didn't say anything to that, just reached out and brushed her lip. His thumb came back red, and only then did she realize it was split.

"You're bleeding," he remarked stupidly. "Come on, we can go home, and this silly potion will wear off soon. I'll clean you up, and you won't ever have to disobey me again."

She stepped out of his grip. "Where's the real Collin?" she asked slowly, holding her hands up. The world was spinning from her lovely fall into the earth, and the headache was growing worse by the minute.

He shrugged. "Probably in his office. I'm not going to hurt him, silly girl. I only wanted to get to you."

"But you're hurting me," she replied, pointing to her lip. He looked at it with a careless glance, shrugging.

"It was deserved honey. You're off at someone else's house, sleeping with other people. I must keep you in your place; it's my job as a husband."

Her eyes flashed. "Your job is supposed to be to protect me and love me, not hurt me and possess me! You don't know the first thing about marriage Ronald! Merlin, I'm a fool to think you ever did."

His expression on Collin's face darkened. "Love, I'm not doing anything wrong. But you can't expect me to tolerate you wearing skimpy outfits like that one out for other people to see."

"You don't know anything, Ron!" she barked, glancing at the door. It was a wonder that no one had come in yet. "You need to leave me alone for a while; cool down. What you have been doing is unhealthy, for the both of us."

Ron lurched forward at that to grab her, but missed by a hair and caught her blouse by the neckline, tearing it down to the single button that kept her blazer closed. She let him tear the fabric, falling to the floor out of his reach. She fell by her wand, having finally gotten far enough back to do so. Without waiting a moment, she turned and snatched it up.

He jumped on her, hitting the floor heavily as their combined body weight came down at once. She grunted, and turned to hex his arse off her, but he yanked her neck back and bit down, using the same force he had last time on her skin. She screamed when he pierced her flesh, but it did not deter the ginger's determination.

Hoping he was distracted for that moment, she blindly shot a spell over her shoulder. It did hit its target, for in the next moment, his body slackened and went limp above her, crushing her into the floor. He would be unconscious for many minutes now.

She could feel the blood leaking down her neck as she scurried to her feet, shoving his body to the side. Now her headache was truly awful, and the world was spinning as she walked. Hurrying to the door, she checked the lock and discovered why no one had come to see what was going on. The silencing spell placed on the door kept sound from leaving, and the protection spell kept anyone from wanting to come in once they touched the door handle. He had to have been planning this.

Hermione glanced back at her husband then, the figure of Collin still throwing her off. But she refused to waste time on that. Stumbling to her desk, she shoved all the letters from her supposed beloved into her bag before scribbling a note that someone in the department could find the next morning, declaring that she needed the next week off. It would likely cause some problems, but she didn't care. She just had to get out of that place.

Glancing at Ron as she hurried to the fireplace, she huffed. Now he would certainly never be allowed to get near her again.

"You want me to be that bitch, Ron? I can be, you know; now I have the motive. Just you wait. You thought you were going to turn me into a statue, the icon of an emotionless wife. I would never be that. But you're going to lose everything now, mark my words. I won't let you get away with this." She grabbed some floo powder on her way to the fireplace, and left without another glance.

* * *

The rushed knocking on his door at roughly noon was startling, and Draco was not yet ready to face the day. He dragged himself out of his bed however as the knocking got more insistent, deciding Granger must've broke something and simply didn't know how to fix it. She was supposed to come back and do some work on the salve during her lunch break, after all.

But the sight on the other side of the door was not what he expected to find. There she stood, blood surging from her neck, the blouse she wore torn open, and her lip split. He was about to ask her what happened, move her into his room before she collapsed-do _something_- when she spoke.

"You know some good healing spells Malfoy?"


	20. Aftermath: Conversation

**A/n: **Here's another one. It's kind of a filler chapter, but I hope you like it anyways! Thanks to my beta **loveinthemadness**! And as always, check me out on facebook! The link is up on my profile.

* * *

It did take more than a few moments to get his emotions in order. Looking at a bleeding girl who has rudely interrupted your irrational sleeping pattern is not the sight anyone wants to see when they awaken, but he didn't have much of a choice. She looked awful from head to toe, and nearly about to faint. He grasped her shoulders as lightly as possible and pulled her back, dragging her down the hallway with her frail form following behind like Jell-O. She jerked awkwardly, as though it were hard to stand. Circe, too many things were bouncing around in his head at once.

He shoved her down on the bed in her room and hardly paid her terrified eyes any mind as he called upon multiple house elves. They arrived in a large group, all eyeing the girl with large, horrified eyes.

"Clean her up," he ordered. "Heal the wounds and insure there is no internal bleeding or damage. Do _all_ the appropriate spells and tests, even the ones that may not be relevant in this situation. Get some water immediately and get it in her system. Put ice on the black eye; Merlin knows that spells to heal a bloody bruise are far to fucking complicated. Then put her under a spell so she will rest, at least for the duration of the day." By the time he finished speaking, they were already hard at work. He didn't even look at her as he turned to go.

Crink followed his Master from the room as he beckoned the elf. The poor creature looked terrified to look up at the blonde and meet his molten gaze. There was a fury there that the elf had never before witnessed smoldering within Draco Malfoy.

"Is Master feeling well? Crink is concerned that the Master is too worried for her."

"You think I'm worried, Crink? I'm not the least bit worried- I'm furious! I know exactly who did that to her- because no one else would! I don't know why she would ever go to find him, but she's going to get herself killed with anymore encounters like that! I'm not concerned,; I know he didn't rape her. There's no blood, no sign of unabridged horror. She's hurt, but that's all. Physical wounds like that can be healed. But Weasley is going to receive a bunch of wounds that won't ever get better."

The elf shrank back a bit. Yes, the Master was certainly angry. "Does the Master still wish for Crink to explain her health when all the healing is through?"

"Yes. Go now, Crink. I want a status update as soon as possible."

"Yes Master," the elf said, disappearing with a loud crack. Draco didn't bother looking back at the sound. He was too busy staring at inanimate objects, his blood boiling. Weasley had gone too far. And now he intended to do something about it, right after he gave the insane girl a nice, long lecture about her carelessness.

* * *

He left her alone until the following day. Crink and Grink informed him hourly if anything drastic changed, and after a short analysis he would send them away. He spent the majority of the day thinking about her, and her little problem. A million questions danced in his head that needed desperately to be resolved, but until he went to see the girl, he would have none. When he did finally go to see her, it was early that following morning and he was already irritated.

Oddly, his tattoo had barely bothered him last night.

She was sitting up in bed when he arrived, looking quite dazed and like she was sore. The constant rubbing of her neck as he walked over made his eyes roll, even as the fixated on the scar that now resided there. If it made him angry to notice that, he didn't let it show.

"Glad to see he left you alone enough to live," he said coldly, moving to sit in the chair and elf had brought over last night. "I wondered for a few if you would not survive."

Her eyes leveled with his, and he was surprised by the hatred he saw there. "I'm not about to let myself die over this," she replied evenly.

The blonde arched an eyebrow. "No, I suppose you were never one to give up anything. But if you hadn't gone to see the bastard in the first place you would never have been hurt. Doesn't that sound a bit more logical?" He knew his voice was coming out as a sneer by that point, but he didn't care. He couldn't quite help it; he was furious.

She adjusted under his gaze a bit, obviously uncomfortable with his glowering gaze. "I didn't go to see him," she snapped in return. "I was at work, in my bloody office."

"Don't feed me lies, Granger; I know very well that Weasley does not work in your division."

"No, but he does work in the Ministry. And people do know we are in a relationship- a marriage- or, at least we were."

She had his full attention now, her newest sentence having grabbed ahold of his mind. "What do you mean _were_? I don't recall reading about any new divorces jumping out in the newspaper."

The girl looked away. "He's gone too far Malfoy, anyone can notice that. He hurt me, he made me bleed, and he's going to excessive measures to get me back to my bloody apartment. I can't attach myself to someone like that. I know it's unorthodox for wizards and witches to be divorced, but I can't handle him. He did this to me in an office with people just outside a door, and the only thing keeping people out being a strong ward. What would he do if I were actually at home? I'll tell you- he'd murder me!" She shook her head. "I know the Ministry is strict about what is dangerous or severe enough to file for divorce and detachment from a spouse, but I cannot keep myself attached to him. The longer I remain estranged and unreachable, the more attention it will draw. People were giving me funny looks at the Ministry yesterday, like they knew that something was wrong with me. If we're already drawing attention after only a few days, then things can only get worse."

He nodded slowly. "You have a point Granger, but filing a divorce will be difficult. They will want to talk to several people to validate why you think the matter is that severe, and you can't just use me to do so. Not only would that draw a lot of attention, but I believe the law states that you need three people to testify that you need the divorce. That means Granger that you might want to start explaining things to other people, like Potter and the Weasley girl."

Her eyes widened. "I have been avoiding that this entire time, Malfoy! There is a reason that I choose to come over here instead of going to Harry's home. I don't want to cause complications."

"Complications?" he asked, eyes narrowing. "You're worried about creating difficulties among friends but when it comes to me your fine with sleeping in different rooms of my Manor to keep from going home? Seems a bit fucked Granger, considering that we don't particularly like each other. You should feel more comfortable confiding in people you have always trusted versus someone like me." He leaned closer to her. "I haven't always been kind to you, after all."

She leaned closer too, sitting back on the bed. Her head hurt, but she wasn't about to back down. "Look, I came here to avoid having to answer questions. I believed that you would leave things alone so long as I was dealing with that salve for you-"

"And I would leave you alone if you didn't always show up bloodied and afraid! You've had marks other times I've seen you, Granger, and now this is far enough. You need to tell someone, and soon. You might be a wondrous bloody fighter, but when it comes to your _beloved_ husband, you chicken out at the thought of hurting him, or so it seems. Which is ironic, since he hurts you without a care when he attempts to bring you back home. You must tell someone else about this, and get those papers in if you want to file for divorce. And I suggest you do Granger, before he locates you again, and again tries to take you home. This time, he might actually kill you. From the way you looked yesterday, I was beginning to wonder if I was going to have to take a trip to St. Mungo's. You looked that awful."

Her eyes fell. "Yes, I know it wasn't the best. But I'm healed now."

"Yes, for now." He adjusted his eyes to meet hers again, despite her protests. "Get better and floo Potter later. I'm not interested in what this might do to your friendship, because your death will harm the once strong link the three of you bloody Golden Trio members once had. Things change, Granger, and you have to adjust. I understand that you have developed the uncharacteristic habit of supporting your husband, but you need to get out of that mindset. If you plan on divorcing your twisted spouse, you need to not worry about how things will affect him. Yes, I'm sure the poor Potter's will be horrified at the tales you can spin them about how life really is, but if you get stuck on that thought you won't get anywhere with this. They might not believe you at first, but you do have your memories of what he has done. Show them the memories whenever you chose to meet, and that will help you tolerate having to relive everything again. You need to get moving along with this process, before you let your morals get in the way."

"My morals?" she asked, interrupting him before he could begin another sentence.

"Yes. You've supported him for ages now, so you must be in the mindset that it is your moral obligation to take care of your husband- which is actually backwards from the norm. Don't let yourself get lost in what will happen, but more about how this will help you in the long run. This way you can move on from your relationship." He stood, stepping back. "I suggest you owl the bloody Potter's sometime today and request some time to speak to them. It might be beneficial to do things in person."

"Probably," she agreed, her mind working quickly to take in everything he had just said. He could be ranting at this point, but thankfully he was relenting instead. He had left her with a lot to think about after all. "I may not be able to work on your salve today then, not if I need to get things in order."

He glanced back at her on his way to the door, rolling his eyes. "I actually thought that wasn't a possibility at all today, Granger. Rest- I don't need you passing out from the blood you lost yesterday, though I do want you to resume working on it tomorrow. I won't be paying you for lounging around." With that he walked out the door, slamming it shut as he went.

She pursed her lips after he had left. He really could be direct when he wanted to be, no matter how unpleasant it came across. Everything he said was straight to the point and had no sugar-coating on it to soften the blow to her pride or emotions. He seemed to know quite a bit about divorces, which was certainly an oddity. But she wouldn't question it just now. He seemed to know what he was talking about; though she would double check what he had said tomorrow when she was better.

Lying back against the pillows, she sighed. Things were not looking up at all, and he only seemed to be less and less pleasant as the days went on. Why did he seem to get so irritable when Ron was brought up in the first place? Sure, he might have a thing against abuse- which was almost laughable when on considered their pasts together- but that didn't mean he needed to be so touchy and annoyed by the subject.

It was times like these when she really wondered what was going on in his head when they discussed things like this. It was strange for her to be speaking about things that were so awful, with the same person that first introduced her to what it felt like to be bruised by another's hands. He did leave her first abusive marks on her hips back in fourth year when they were forced to be partners, something she had never forgotten.

She wondered what would happen in the weeks coming. Things were likely to get more complicated, now that she was planning to leave Ron. She wasn't sure she was ready for this whirlwind.


	21. Retrospect: Halls

**A/n**: Thanks to my beta **loveinthemadness**! And as always, check me out on facebook! The link is up on my profile.

* * *

The upper rooms of the tower were nice and empty. He couldn't force himself to go back down, not when there was so much death. Granger may have saved his life, but that didn't make him any braver. He fully intended to hide up there as long as possible, and maybe no one would ever come this far before a winner was declared. But he probably wouldn't be that lucky.

He had found a nice classroom to sit and wallow in, one that he had enchanted to alert him if any problems or dangers got too close. He couldn't have any Death Eater's discovering that he was hiding, or they would kill him on spot- even his father.

His thoughts wandered to Granger as he sat in the annoying darkness, not a soul around to speak with. She had saved his life, and he did nothing in return except let her journey back into that warzone by herself. What kind of man was he? He was raised as a Pureblood to consider women weaker, but Granger had always been an exception to that rule. Maybe it was because she continued to do some very unladylike things as a member of the Golden Trio. Or maybe it was simply because he hated her. If she had been Pansy or Astoria or Daphne, he would've followed her- out of respect for the principles he grew up with; even if he couldn't keep them alive, he should try. And after Granger very selflessly saved the very person that had made her life difficult, he acted like a total arse and sent her off alone. Could he be more pathetic?

_Granger_. He spent far too much time with her on his mind. She was a constant thought since he saw her leaving with those blundering idiots she called friends from his very home, and even since he left his mark on her fourth year. After all, males were not supposed to mark a girl in any way unless they intended to have her. He did it back then simply to spite the stupid brunette, but they had ended up in a few suggestive and too close circumstances for him to call it an accident. Draco crossed a lot of lines by playing with her, even if it was just a childish game for dominance and the need to show superiority to the other. He knew right after fourth year that he was playing with fire, and now he might just be burned.

The worst part was, now he was worried about her. He was too cowardly to brave the war outside just to keep an eye on her, yet he was worried. It was fucked up in many senses, but he didn't care. That was how he felt.

_You don't really even know what to think of her anymore. She's the enemy; she's dirty. But in the time you played the bruising game with her you touched her, and there was something there. She's filthy, yet you want her. Maybe you should've followed, because then you could've let someone kill you and none of this would be playing with your mind now. You can't like her; you can't be interested by her. She will always be untouchable territory, especially if we both survive this war. No matter who wins, you can't pursue her. Maybe death would be easier to cope with in this situation. _

His thoughts were interrupted by heavy footfalls on the stone floor somewhere outside and muffled screams. Jerking from his comfortable position, he became instantly more alert. Luck wasn't with him, and now someone had come up to his floor. More would likely follow, but it appeared to just be one person by the sound of the footsteps- one person and a captive.

He doubted it was an Order member dragging along a Death Eater. The Order caught captives a lot more affectively, and didn't bother with twisted methods of interrogation before during the prisoner over. He almost pitied whoever was trying to scream for help. With a sigh, he grasped his wand tightly and made his way to the door. So much for hiding like a coward/ Now he would have to do something, else risk being caught. And it was better to reveal his presence to just one person now than fifteen later who would all gang up on him.

He didn't much like those odds.

Casting a charm to see through the door, he felt his heart drop. If the gods were playing with his sanity today, they were doing a fine job. Yaxley was wondering ahead of him, his hood down, and struggling in his grip appeared to be Granger. Maybe he would be able to repay her for saving him earlier. He quite liked that idea.

Maybe he liked the idea of saving her a little too much.

Quickly he cast another spell, and his robes replaced themselves into the Death Eater fashion. Without his hair being long like his father's, he was indistinguishable from any other follower of Voldemort. He didn't want either of them to immediately know it was him after all. Placing a silencing spell on the door to keep it from groaning, he stepped out of the room and made sure to keep his steps inhumanly quiet at first.

He made them louder when he was far from his hiding place, the other man further down the hall with the struggling girl. Yaxley turned around with her still in his grip, and it was then that he noticed the chunk of hair missing on the front of her head. He became extremely thankful that the mask hid any expressions that might've betrayed any of his feelings.

A wand was out in an instant, but he did not raise his own- at least for now. "Which are you?" he asked, his question phrased strangely. Draco could not think of a reason why he would speak so oddly, but kept his thoughts to himself.

He pulled back the mask, knowing otherwise he would be fired upon because his word wouldn't be enough. His wand came out as well, resting in a lazy grip. "Malfoy," he replied evenly, noting how the girl no longer struggled or screamed in his grip. Her face angled downward, and the remaining hair hid her expression. He attempted to not focus on her.

The man's face split into a grin. "Ah, Draco! There you are; people have been wondering where you have gone to. Someone's spreading a rumor that the Potter boy is going to win, but I thought a bit of enticement would put things into perspective for him." He gestured to the girl. "Think he will be distracted if I dangle her out a window? Might be enough to get him killed."

Draco didn't even know if Harry and Voldemort were still around the school at all, but he did know the Gryffindor girl had a massive fear of heights. She'd start screaming in seconds and if that didn't draw attention, nothing would. She would be killed by any Death Eater that saw her if the thought that they had a chance of murdering the famous Mudblood.

"Seems daring," Draco drawled, thankful that Yaxley was someone he only occasionally spoke to. If they knew each other better, his unusual demeanor might have thrown the older man off. But thankfully, he remained oblivious to the tenseness in his voice.

"It will be worth it if it kills the boy, won't it? Besides, if it doesn't work, I can always toss her off the balcony." He wiggled his eyebrows. "Or have my way with her."

The blonde fought to keep the pathetic amount of food in his stomach down. Everyone always seemed to be thinking the same, sickening thought these days. When would people start coming up with more creative forms of punishment? All he ever heard about was rape and the Crucio curse. They had a million dark spells to play with, yet everyone seemed to use the same simple tactics. Pathetic.

"I doubt that's a good idea," he replied, fighting to keep his eyes in one place. He needed to find a way to fix this situation, and fast. "You'd cause more issues, especially if things don't go in our favor."

The older man's eyes darkened. "You doubt the Dark Lord's abilities?! The Potter boy still has a mind of a child, just like you! Someone so young can't be prepared to handle such a large task. He will die, just give it some time."

"I suppose." Draco watched the man nod, then turn away. Perhaps he could simply attack from behind, but he never really got the chance.

Granger- who seemed to be unable to help herself the entire time- jutted out a leg and tripped the older man, sending him crashing into the ground, his body landing on one of her legs. For a moment Draco was completely thrown by the unusual turn of events, until Yaxley began to try and retaliate, grabbing the girl's legs.

Right about then they finally locked eyes, and the blonde snapped himself out of his surprise. He needed to act fast, and she would probably appreciate it more if he did something to help her out.

A quick stunning charm caught the elder Death Eater off guard, and he fell the short distance back onto his side. The blonde wasted no time wiping his memory of the past twenty minutes- just to be sure- before he helped Granger get up.

She jerked in his grip, moving from his grasp to lean against a wall. She placed her hand on the stone surface, looking up at him with wide eyes. "I thought you weren't going back out to fight," she gasped.

He rolled his eyes, so used to her cutthroat sentences and accusations that it didn't even faze him in this moment. "Yes, I know. This is quite a surprise indeed. Don't complain though, because without me you would be in a worse place by now."

Her expression hardened as he reached up to touch the wound on her head, but she stopped his hand. "Don't touch it, I'll heal it myself. My wand is on the next floor, and most people haven't gotten this far up. I can get back to it without trouble."

"Just like you could get out of that situation without trouble?" he snapped in return. "If I hadn't been around, Granger, I'm not entirely sure what you would've done to save yourself."

Hermione rolled her eyes, though she seemed to be getting dizzier by the minute. "I would've done something."

"I'm sure," he said, touching his wand to her head in her distraction. She didn't quite have time to shove it away, but she didn't look angry to have the gash healed either. She didn't offer a thank you when he finished, and he didn't expect it. Thank you's between them were still quite awkward.

"I should be getting back," she said quickly, moving away. "I don't want to be around when he wakes up, even if he won't remember."

_Won't remember._ Now the gears in Draco's mind were spinning. He knew his idea was twisted and wrong instantly, but it was very tempting. He saved her a lot, and maybe she did owe him something. But he couldn't get in trouble if she never remembered.

He brushed her cheek, and she looked up at him as he moved closer again, eyes curious now. He never touched her like this before, and she had no idea what it meant. In all regards, she should be scared.

And although he had hurt her many times in the past, she did not fear him now. Maybe it was because he had also saved her many times as well.

"Malfoy?" she asked, unsure what was happening. But he placed a finger to her lips, quieting her down. She didn't move away, she just watched him with uncertainty.

When he leaned forward to press his lips against her own she didn't have enough time to be startled and turn away. He kept one hand against the back of her head, softly holding her in place. If she really struggled against him, she could get away. But the girl did not. She practically melted against him as his soft lips worked against her own.

Draco didn't linger long in the kiss, and took a step back the moment he dropped his hand from the back of her head. They stared at each other in silence for a moment, neither sure what to say.

It was Hermione that broke the long silence. "Why?"

But Draco couldn't look at her now; he hated himself. He was playing with forbidden fruit, and liking it a little too much. His growing curiosity for the girl had gotten out of hand now, and although he didn't regret his action he couldn't let her go about with those thoughts in her head; it couldn't be done.

He didn't look into her eyes when he pulled out his wand, because he believed what he was doing was right. He might've loved the kiss, but that didn't matter. They were in a war- one which might go on for a long time- and he didn't think it was a good idea to have those memories dancing in her head. What if they ended up being her downfall?

Maybe he was overreacting in this moment about her safety, but he didn't care.

The blonde shook his head, looking at her for a moment. "I'm sorry... Hermione, Obliviate."

* * *

**A/n: **I know, odd ending. It does have a purpose! We will be going back to present time in the next chapter though. No worries, this will be looked into again soon.


	22. Aftermath: Confession

**A/n**: Here's the newest chapter :) Hope you enjoy it! And if you're into it, check out my HP X Twilight request crossover, "Victims of Circumstance". Now enjoy the chapter, we are back up to the present again! Thanks to my beta **loveinthemadness**!

* * *

She stood in front of the fireplace for a long time, attempting unsuccessfully to step in and call out her destination. Draco hadn't spoken to her that morning, and she assumed he was still asleep. It had been decided that she would floo Harry and Ginny's home this morning, and hopefully she could get over there soon. She just didn't want to have to do it.

What if they looked at her differently now? Things wouldn't necessarily go in her favor.

_You're overthinking like normal. Just go._

She shook her head, clearing her mind. She just needed to go over there.

* * *

"Are you alright?" She knew that coming over to Harry's looking less than rested would be bad, but she hadn't been prepared for the complete concern there in his eyes.

Ginny was nowhere to be found when she arrived; the girl had gone off to speak to Luna the moment the sun broke that morning. Harry looked anxious as he made himself a cup of coffee, repeatedly asking if she would like anything. The brunette continued to decline until he sat down, running a hand through his hair. When he was sure she was fine, he gestured for her to begin.

Hermione looked down when it was finally time to begin. Pursing her lips, she looked for the right way to begin, but he beat her to it. "Where have you been?"

Her eyes narrowed, and she looked up to meet his own. "What do you mean, _where_ have I been?"

The boy looked away, biting his lip. "Ron called a couple of days ago, demanding to know if we had seen you at all. And well, we told him to call the moment you returned. He sounded drunk that night Hermione, and I assumed you went somewhere to get away from him for the night." He met her eyes again. "He never let me know if you had shown up."

"Oh," she said stupidly, having completely ignored the fact that more people than just Ron would notice her absence. It was foolish on her part, but then she didn't think all of her actions had been the best the last few days. Situations were tight, and perhaps her judgment of some things recently hadn't been the best- like ignoring telling her friends the truth.

"And your work, they've been worried too," he pressed, searching her face for answers. "I went down several days ago to say hello and your boss wanted to know where you have been. When I didn't receive a call from Ron later, I got worried. I sent you a letter Hermione, the day after Ron couldn't find you actually."

She frowned, having never received such a thing. Maybe she had been home at that time, and the letter was found by Ron later. That was a possibility, though not a happy one.

"I've had to deal with some things-"

"But where were you?" he pressed, leaning towards her. "I've been worried- all of us. Ron... well I know Ron can be a jerk sometimes, but he's been concerned about you too. He's come up with this ridiculous idea that you've been staying at another man's house." Harry looked a bit delusional by then, grasping to straws at what could be the answer to all of this. Guiltily, she stood up, brushing her hair out of her face as she turned away.

"That's what I have to talk to you about, Harry- why I came over." She was pacing now, attempting to not look at him as she spoke. "I… I have to leave Ron."

He stood, catching her as she passed. "Hermione, what are you talking about? I can tell you and Ron are going through a rough patch right now, but it can't be that bad can it? He wouldn't tell me what was going on between the two of you, just that you were disagreeing a lot-"

She shoved him away, pulling out her wand. A quick flick of her wrist took off the concealment spell she had placed on herself that morning, revealing the new scar on her neck and the fading black eye. He gaped at her, taking a step away as well.

She pointed at her face. "I won't go back to him! I won't be treated like a toy by someone that I spend most of my time trying to support! I don't want to hear about how he is Harry, he did this to me! I don't really care what happens to him, but I came over here to talk to you." The girl slightly shook as she spoke, and took a quick breath to try and calm herself. "I haven't been home in days. I found a new place to stay for the time being until things are straightened out, but for right now I'm as settled as I can be. He did this to me in my_ office _at work Harry, with a single bloody spell up blocking everyone out of the space. He did this to me when people were _around!_ What do you think he would've done if we were alone?"

He stared for many moments at the sight before him, attempting to take everything in as he looked his friend over. Could it really be Ron's doing? Stepping forward hesitantly, he brushed his fingers across her eye and she winced at the contact. So the black eye was real.

Harry shook his head slowly. "Why? Why would he do that?"

She grabbed his hand, letting out a long sigh. Now that she had begun talking, she didn't want to stop. "Let's go into the living room. I have things to show you."

* * *

Hermione returned later to Malfoy Manor without a problem. She decided to not tell Harry where she was staying, at least not directly after she dropped such a heavy realization on him. What she had to say was awful- and in many ways horrifying- but now that she had told her friend the girl did feel a bit better. It had been a burden to conceal things from her friends.

He was shocked after they used the pensieve in his backroom to view her memories, and more than a bit disgusted with the actions of his friend. She left before Ginny returned home that day, and even as she took off her coat in the extravagant bedroom the last bit of her conversation with Harry echoed in her mind.

"_Ginny... she's not going to take this well," he said._

_She nodded tightly. "I know. I haven't the slightest idea how we will tell her without the girl exploding. Even if I showed her the marks, I doubt that she would be willing to listen to what I have to say. It is her brother after all; she's going to try to believe he's better than this."_

"_You have to show her the memories you showed me," he said, looking into her eyes. She can't deny memories; they can't be warped. Forgotten or erased maybe, but not warped. What she would see would be the truth, and then she would have to believe you."_

"_We have to persuade her to want to see the memories first Harry. She isn't going to be very accepting of this."_

_He nodded, pulling her into a tight hug. "I know," he said, resting his head on her own. "Merlin, Hermione, if I had known-"_

"_You didn't," she said quickly, pushing him back a bit to look at his face. "Don't blame yourself, Harry; he hasn't always been this way. Things have just progressively gotten worse in recent months, and nothing is getting better." She shook her head. "I don't know what to do to help him."_

"_You shouldn't want to help him," he argued, "You should be furious. Look what he tried to do to you Hermione! He would've done far worse if you weren't so skilled with a wand. You're lucky, I suppose, if one can look at it that way. The next time I see him-"_

"_No!" she said, already knowing where the conversation was going. "Don't do anything to him, at least not right away. Harry, it won't do any good to have Ginny mad at you, especially if she doesn't understand why you beat her brother up. Remember, I have to have three people testifying for my divorce, we both know that. But if people just start beating up Ron because of what they know it's going to draw a lot of attention. The divorce proposal will be horrendous enough; I'll probably never hear the end of that. Please, don't do anything rash. I'll get my vengeance."_

_He scoffed. "Yes, but in what way? Money might be nice if you can sue him for domestic violence, Hermione, but don't you think it would feel better to just beat at him a little? I'm quite tempted to do so myself. He's way too far out of line." _

_She nodded once, thinking how ironic it was for Harry to be talking like this. Malfoy had the same attitude towards these matters, and they both had such a different standpoint on things in this situation that it was a wonder they thought the same. Or maybe not, maybe there was a reason Malfoy seemed so insulted by the violence done to her. She would have to look into that. _

Hermione sighed and fell onto her bed. Now things would slowly- _hopefully_- fall into place to get things underway, but she knew it would be a battle from there. Not just to get Ginny to understand why they had to divorce, what Ron put her through, but also with everything else that came along with the seperation. Newspapers would have a fit over one of the most seemingly happy couples ending their marriage, and questions would be all over the place. She would be pestered for ages about what made her go to such extremes, and sooner or later everyone would find out what went on in private between herself and Ron during the last days of their time together.

She was not very mentally prepared for this.

And on top of that jolly thought, she would need to find a new place of residence. There was no way she could live in that apartment again and feel comfortable. The majority of her belongings were still there, and she was going to have to retrieve more of those soon if she intended to continue living in the Manor with Draco.

That thought sparked multiple questions in her mind. First of all, she couldn't quite figure out when her mind had become comfortable enough to call the blonde by his given name, but it was quite odd to puzzle about. She wasn't sure how she felt about that.

She seemed very unsure about a great many things.

The other thing really bothering her about that train of thought, was the idea of having to return to her apartment. She certainly wouldn't go alone after the last two encounters she had with Ron, but she didn't quite know who to bring with her. Draco seemed opportune since this was his home, but she was certain if Ron appeared, there would be far too many complications and scattered emotions on both sides. She didn't think she could take that all that too well. On the other hand she could ask Harry to accompany her, but she would have to wait for Ginny to be out of the house for her to do so. Until the red-headed girl knew everything that was going on, and could accept it, she didn't want to cross paths with her. Ginny would owl Ron immediately, and that would cause more issues.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a few short sharp knocks on the door. Walking quickly over, she opened it and found Draco on the other side- as expected. He looked quite refreshed from his supposedly lengthy sleep, and very comfortable in the attire he wore.

He studied her face and nodded once. "From the worry lines forming on your forehead, I suppose you went over to the Potter's?"

Hermione nodded once, beckoning for him to come in. He did so, and relaxed onto one of her comfortable chairs. "I spoke to Harry at least," she said when they were seated.

Draco raised an eyebrow at her. "And why not with the Weaselette? They both ought to know."

"Yes," she agreed, dragging the word out to show that she understood, "But Ron is Ginny's brother. She's not going to be as accepting. She will probably take more time."

He rolled his eyes, but said nothing more. She took that as agreement on his part.

"So all went well otherwise?" he asked at length, and she knew what he was pointing at. He wanted to know if she told the truth about everything.

"Yes," she replied, picking at what had to be an expensive pillow. "He understood everything I told him."

"And what exactly does _everything_ entail?"

She looked up again, glaring. "I didn't tell him about my former line of work, if that's what you're after. I also failed to explain that I am currently staying in your home, with your dangerous parents, attempting to create a salve that might just fix the Dark Mark on your skin." She batted her eyes. "I thought those things might just kill Harry if I dropped it all on him at once."

"Fair enough," he replied, placing his hands behind his head. "As long as you're not compressing everything now; at least this way you can file for your divorce."

Hermione bit her lip. "Yes, I suppose."

"You don't sound very chipper about the idea- which you should be. Who would want to be attached to an arsehole like that?"

"I don't," she argued quickly. "It's just strange to consider that I might end up single again. What would I do with myself? I've been married to Ron for years now. I don't remember what it's like to not have someone with me. Even during the war we were partially together, just not official. You don't make anything official in the times of war."

He shrugged. "Well, when your divorce goes through, we'll go clubbing together. A night with me and you'll be just fine locating the correct person to be with. You'll probably be better at the game than me in some ways; you'll actually pause and settle on one person."

She smiled softly. "I would. But Malfoy, do you think I can have some time alone? I didn't sleep well last night, what with the idea of having to go and talk to Harry hanging over my head. I need some sleep- and then I'll work on your bloody slave," she added hastily when his eyebrow shot up at the mention of a nap.

He stood, making his way towards the door. "If you insist, Granger," he replied, not pausing to hear her response. Covers were already shuffling together behind him, and he knew the girl would be asleep soon enough if she was already crawling into bed. He walked right out without needing for her to say anything more.

The walk back to his room seemed unusually long. The gears in his head were turning, working their way around the puzzle before him. He fully intended to get this divorce to go through the system properly and get Granger single again. But he had other ideas as to what to do with the girl than take her clubbing.

Briefly, he recalled a distant kiss he had once shared with her. How would things be different, if he hadn't been such a coward and erased the moment from her mind?

Maybe, he would have her already.


	23. Aftermath: Roses

**A/n**: I cut this chapter because it was so long, so the next chapter should be out soon! Tomorrow or the following day, depending. Thanks to my beta **loveinthemadness**! And as always, check me out on facebook! The link is up on my profile.

* * *

The following few days passed quickly. Hermione received far too many owls from Harry checking up on her, asking again and again where she was and if she needed anything. She wanted to tell him she was fine- she was at Malfoy's actually- but she knew that wouldn't go over too well now. There were enough things piled on top of each other, and she didn't want to add anything more. As long as Ron couldn't find her, she was comfortable at the Manor.

Ron sent owls too, all of which she turned away, unopened. She didn't care if he was worrying, not after how he treated her. He could worry himself to death for all she cared.

Working on Malfoy's salve kept her distracted and preoccupied. She owled her boss about an intruder in her office that did do some harm, and when he asked for details she withheld information. Unfortunately unless she would testify who it was or have a restraining order, nothing could be done. She picked her work up at the Ministry now, ignoring the looks people sent her, and did everything from her room in the Manor. She didn't mind if people wondered, but she did worry about what they would say if they knew the truth. That thought made her shudder.

Roughly five days after she went to speak with Harry, she knew it was time to go back to her apartment. She had only grabbed what she supposed she needed for work, not the numerous other items she kept spread across her room. And although she still thought bringing Draco Malfoy with her was a bad idea, she just couldn't ask Harry. Harry was in such a dreadfully awkward position at the moment, and she didn't want to add to it by making him take her to her apartment. He was her friend, but he had also been best friends with Ron for a long time, and he was Ginny's husband. His situation was perhaps the most complicated, and she chose to leave him alone.

She only hoped her estranged husband wouldn't be there. Knocking twice on the door before her, she waited for the blonde occupant to open up. When he did, he was rubbing sleep from his eyes.

"It's nearly noon you know," she said irritably, shaking her head at his sleeping habits. She had yet to put on any of the spells that hid the abuse Ron had done to her, but it didn't really matter now. The marks were healing slowly, and everything was a bit less vibrant now. Besides, it's not like she had a reason to hide the marks, when he already knew all about them.

"Yes, but if it's not noon that means it's still morning, and the morning is for sleeping." He continued to study her, obviously completely ignoring the fact that he wore no shirt. It was a bit startling, for he never really did that around her. He always seemed to want to have a way to conceal the Dark Mark on his forearm, but today seemed to be an exception. Then again, it was rather hot last night.

Hermione rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. "Well, could you make an exception this morning? I need to go someplace this morning, and I need you to come with me."

He raised an eyebrow, leaning against the doorframe. "You need me to take you someplace? Granger, I know Weasley found you at the Ministry the other day, but that doesn't mean he is lurking everywhere-"

"I'm not afraid of him finding me everywhere I go," she snapped. Rubbing her eyes once, she calmed herself. "But where I am going, I'm fairly certain he will be there."

Silver eyes narrowed to slits. "And where exactly do you want to go."

She leveled her eyes with his. "My apartment. There are some things there that I miss."

"That's ridiculous," he laughed, turning as he grasped his hair. "If you think there are complications with your relationship now, they will only increase if I go there. What if he told someone Granger? That would be another thing for you to try and deal with on top of an attempted divorce, and all those lovely friends you have to break the news to. This just sounds like a complication in the making."

"You'd rather I go by myself then?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. The girl was fairly certain she knew the answer- what with how he reacted the last few times she encountered her husband.

When his head snapped around, it just confirmed her suspicions. "Why don't you take Potter? He seems like a smarter choice, and he even knows now."

"Harry would cause more issues," she said stiffly. "There are many reasons why, but I don't want to go into them right now. Right about this time in the day, Ron is usually either sleeping a hangover off or he's out drinking or something. Hopefully we won't even run into him. Now would you just stop arguing and come with me? I don't see why it's such a big deal."

"_A big deal?_ Granger, Weasely can't stand me, and the fact that I'm going to appear with his wife won't make things any better; he might be a fool, but he's not completely oblivious. He will put two and two together and realize you're staying with me, and where do you think things will escalate from there?"

She huffed, turning away. "Fine! Since this is such an issue, I'll simply go myself." She stomped off, not bothering to look back in his direction.

He stood in his place, grumbling before he hurried into his room to snatch up a wrinkled shirt and some shoes. He didn't think she was stupid enough to go alone back to that arseholes home, but he couldn't be completely sure that she was bluffing. And he knew if she did decide to go and she got hurt again, he would feel like shit for ignoring her. At least she wasn't trying to be sneaky; strangely, the usually headstrong and independent girl was asking for help. Maybe she was smart enough to know when she needed assistance after all.

_You're a difficult woman, Granger. _

* * *

The apartment Hermione once shared with her husband was heavily warded to say the least, and they traveled together through the floo so that she wouldn't have to arrive first and chance meeting Ron just to open it up for the blonde. To say it was an uncomfortably close trip was an understatement. The fireplace at Hermione's was smaller than at the Manor, and the pair found themselves squished tightly together in the space.

She stepped into a silent apartment, but she knew better than to trust anything at first glance. He could be lurking anywhere, though unless the ginger had developed a strange case of paranoia she didn't think he would have any reason to be sneaking around his own apartment. If anything, she expected a cliché scene with him sitting in a chair, petting her poor cat instead.

"Seems empty," the blonde at her side said, and she sincerely wished he would keep his mouth shut.

"Shh," she said, turning to glare at him. "What if he is here someplace?"

"Then the loud roar of the floo should've alerted him that someone is here, especially if he is nursing a hangover."

Well, at least his reasoning was plausible.

"Let's just get this over with," she muttered, pulling her cardigan tighter as she walked to the bedroom, Draco close on her heels. At least he didn't plan to go far.

At the bedroom entrance, she had to stop and catch her breath, completely thrown by what she saw. Behind her Draco stopped as well, but his thoughts were a mystery to her as she slowly stepped into the space.

The bed was adored in rose petals, the sheets a pale pastel color she didn't even know they owned. _Toys_ of different sorts sat around the bed, items that she had never been one to touch. There were chocolates, and grapes, and a dark red wine that many might think cheap, but from what she knew of their budget it was too extravagant. Nearby sat a radio and she realized it was probably spelled to play music when he arrived.

She shook her head slowly. It was like he had plans for her to come back to him, and he thought romantic bullshit would fix everything.

"Seems like someone is quite certain you're going to return," Draco said from behind her. "He went to some major measures to make everything look just perfect, didn't he?"

Hermione closed her eyes. "I suppose he did."

A hand came down to sit on her shoulder, and she glanced at the blonde behind her. "Don't get dragged down into this little show of his, Granger. It's probably just there to do this, to trick you into thinking he can be sweet. It's a ploy, and you're silly to fall victim to it."

She spun around. "I'm not falling," she spat angrily. "I just can't believe he would bother to do this."

He held her gaze. "Desperate people do all they can to keep someone, even if they have already lost that person."

She turned away again, closing her eyes. She didn't have a response to that. Taking a deep breath, she pushed any emotions she felt into the back of her mind and headed for the closet. She had a nice bag there, one her mother had given to her, and she would use that to magically take everything with her. Draco said nothing as she collected her things.

Hermione was nearly finished when the floo roared to life in the living room, and both occupants snapped their heads up. She could already feel the unease sink in, but it was only sharpened as she heard girlish laughter floating in through the room.

_A girl_. So this wasn't for her at all. He had plans with someone else, and he went through all this effort just to seduce someone else. He was openly cheating on her, and she couldn't deny that it hurt a bit. She could feel the stinging sensation in her chest.

Her thoughts came to a halt as she realized the pair would be coming in the bedroom, and the thought made her stomach flip. She couldn't handle that, but she didn't want to see who it was either. Without thinking, she grabbed the sleeve of Malfoy's shirt and pulled him back into the closet with her. He grunted as they tumbled into heaps of tossed clothing, but she shut the door quietly enough to avoid drawing attention.

"Ah yes," he hissed. "This is so much better than just shoving your way out of here."

She barely looked at him, because she didn't think she could stand to. All she wanted to do was shrink back into the piles of her and Ron's clothing, and let it hide her forever. She couldn't believe what she had walked into.

"Get up," he continued whispering irritably. "We cannot just sit in here. If the room is set up like that then we both know we don't want to sit in here and listen. Just get up and we'll go."

Hermione looked down. She suddenly didn't want to get out of the closet; she didn't want to see who it was. But she didn't exactly want to be present for the whole show either, and she could still hear Draco urging her to leave with him even as soft footsteps caught her attention, and she realized they were in the bedroom now. She felt her stomach drop.

"Stop letting it get to you!" he hissed. "Weasely is not worth it. Let's go, Granger. He can't get mad at you; this is your house as much as it is his."

She gulped, sitting up in the gloomy darkness, her eyes never leaving the space where she knew the door was. It would be even worse to step out of the closet with Malfoy in tow, but she did this to herself. Sitting there, she couldn't decide if she ducked into the hidden space because she didn't want Ron to see her, or because she couldn't stand to see Ron.

He nudged her shoulder. "Stand up, Granger, come on. We just need to leave."

Gripping the small bag she had packed with everything she could think of, she searched for his hand in the dark. If she was going to have to parade out past Ron, then hell, she was going to give him something to think about on her way out.

After all, the ginger did some horrible things to her. Suddenly bringing the blonde along didn't seem like such a horrible idea. What better way to fuck over her husband's world than to brush past him with his enemy in tow. She could make a show of this.

_I'm done letting you mess with me, Ron. You have no idea what heartbreak feels like, not yet. _

She gripped Malfoy's hand, leaning over to talk into his ear. "Just follow my lead." She didn't wait to see if she had any questions, but instead stood, the blonde man following her. Shoving the closet door open, she pulled him out behind her.

The woman on the bed with her husband was one that made her groan out of disgust. Lavender had not changed since their school years, and looked just as desperate for Ron's affections as ever, if the ridiculously revealing clothing in his favorite color was any indication. They lay in a tangle of arms and legs, with the desperate female on top, and as the duo opened the closet and stepped out Ron paused his actions to gape at the woman stomping to the door. Half a moment later, sweet Lavender was tumbling to the floor, thrown off by the angered ginger.

"What do you think you're doing, Hermione?!" he seethed, jumping into a standing position. She stiffened at the door, very wary of what usually followed when he got that way. But she had another body at her side this time to help support her, and the strong arm that snaked around her shoulders and pulled her close reminded her she wasn't alone this time.

She turned back, crossing her arms tightly over her middle. "I'm leaving Ron. I came to collect some of my things. Obviously my presence isn't very missed as it is, not if you have a fallback that comes here so easily."

The red in his face was quickly growing. "What's _he _doing here?"


	24. Aftermath: Argue

**A/n**: Ah, another update. Remember to look for me on facebook and like m page! The link is on my profile if you are interested. Thanks to my beta **loveinthemadness**!

* * *

"He's here with me," she said simply, leaning closer to the body at her side. The blonde was oddly quiet- something she didn't expect from him. After all, he usually acted quite vocal when Ron was a topic of discussion. "I asked him to come here with me today."

"He doesn't belong!" her husband hissed in return. "So is that where you have been hiding, Malfoy Manor!? I never expected you to sink that low-"

"Well then we both have been surprising each other lately," she snapped in return, watching Lavender try to compose herself from the corner of her eye. "But that doesn't matter Ron, none of it does. I'll be taking my leave now-"

"You're not going anywhere! This is your home, you should be here, not parading around with Malfoy like a common whore! Do you even listen to the stories about him? He's just as bad-"

"You might not like me Weasely, but I do prefer that you leave me out of this," came the voice from her side. She could feel him stiffening, and she knew it wasn't good. Why was he getting so worked up though? Ron didn't seem like he was going to try anything so long as Draco continued to stand there.

The enraged ginger barely glanced at her blonde counterpart. "I wasn't addressing you, Ferret, and I'd much prefer you leave my wife alone. She's still _mine_!" The last word came out possessively, in a tone that demanded total dominance. The blonde raised an eyebrow, but she quickly reached behind him and stroked his back. This was awful enough; she didn't want the two to start fighting each other.

"You don't seem too concerned about her being _yours_ if you're bringing home whatever willing bint you can find." His tone didn't hold anything possessive in it, but his words came out mockingly, and it only fueled the ginger's temper. Things were escalating quickly, and she no longer wanted to stand in Ron's presence. She didn't want them arguing, and she didn't want to be trapped in the dispute. The longer she stared at Ron, the more images popped into her mind. She just wanted to get out of there and back to Malfoy Manor, where she could hide away in the covers of the bed she had come to call her own.

"Draco," she hissed, specifically using his given name to grind on her husband's nerves, "Let's just go. Let's get out of here."

"That's right- run," Ron mocked, grinning now. His attention focused on the blonde again. "I knew you wouldn't fight."

"Don't listen to him," she urged as he took a step forward, "Let's just go." She moved to walk away and he slowly backed up as well, watching the ginger the entire way. He didn't turn away from the freckled, grinning face, not until they were outside the doorframe and only then did he turn away. Grabbing the simple door, he slammed it shut against the frame, not caring at all that the frame cracked on impact. She hauled him the rest of the way to the floo.

"Let's just go," she said quietly as they stepped in together. Their departure was interrupted however as the fractured door was flung back open and her spouse stepped out. Although she was perfectly fine flooing away without saying a word to him, Draco seemed to have other ideas now. Stepping out of the floo, he crossed his arms. She swore beneath her breath and stepped out as well, unwilling to leave the two of them alone.

"I said you're not going anywhere!" Ron seethed, pointing at her with his now drawn wand. "You belong here, Hermione; you're not disappearing again!"

"No I don't!" she argued, hardening her gaze. "I don't belong here, Ron! I am constantly mistreated, and you can't tell me you're missing me all that much- You do have your little plaything in there after all! I've barely been away from this house a week, Ron, and you're already cheating-"

"You were cheating before!" he accused. "I knew something was wrong from the day I came home and saw you dressed in that skimpy outfit! If you wouldn't wear that even for me, then you had to have someone on the side that made you want to dress that way!"

"I didn't cheat! Ron, you're coming up with surreal scenarios that don't even exist! Draco called on me one day to help him out-"

"Oh, I'm sure you helped him out-"

"_And_ I've been assisting him since! I was doing it to help and pay the bloody mortgage on this house that we never seem to meet. I was trying to keep a fucking roof over our heads! But I wasn't cheating, Ron. _I_ have more respect for the person I am married to than that!"

He shook his head, apparently discarding her words completely. The three could hear shuffling in the silence, and a moment later Lavender appeared in the doorway of the bedroom Hermione once shared with someone she thought she would always be with.

"Are you coming back?" she asked rudely, eyeing Hermione and Draco as she spoke. There seemed to be disproval in her eyes, but the brunette witch could care less- Brown was shagging her husband, after all.

"In a moment!" he snarled in return, and the woman threw her hands up behind him and turned away, disappearing from view.

"Do you always speak like this to your wife?" Draco asked from her side, and she tensed again. Did he have to keep bringing up difficult topics?

"I speak to her as I always have," he replied roughly, focusing his gaze on Hermione again. "Come back to bed."

Her face twisted into a look of absolute disgust. "Are you kidding, Ron?! You just sent Lavender in there; there's no way I'm doing that!"

"I'll send her away if you toss Malfoy to the side," he replied coolly, glancing at Draco. "I just want you home," he continued in a softer tone.

To that, her eyebrows shot up in surprise, but the blonde's expression hardened. He knew she was being caught off guard by his sudden change in attitude, but it was quite obviously a hoax. The ginger was playing her simply to get her to stay, and he knew that the moment that happened he would go right back to beating on her again. She had known this arse far too long, and the child in her still clung to the possibility that the man she fell for could come back. It was an age-old mistake to fall back in love with someone that would only ever do you wrong. He could see that, and Draco was certain Ron knew that. But Hermione was in a difficult situation, one which fucked with her life far more than it fucked with his currently. He knew she wanted things simple, and in that moment he feared that she would go all gooey and fall right back into the bastard's arms.

She proved his worries wrong half a moment later when she turned away. "If you wanted me Ron, you shouldn't have mistreated me." Glancing in his direction, Draco could tell that it was taking more than a bit of strength on her part to continue being so hostile. "We're leaving now."

He nodded, watching the ginger as they stepped back into the floo. His eyes never left the other mans as she gathered the floo powder, and he was thankful he was being so cautious. Hermione remained focused on calling out her destination, but he had other things drawing his attention. When Ron lunged as she was speaking to jump through the floo and follow them, Draco was completely prepared to step out and intercept the attack. They tumbled into the floor, where the blonde quickly got a better hold on his enemy and shoved his wand into the ginger's throat.

"You're plan didn't work out quite right, Weasely," he commented coolly, jamming the piece of wood further into the gingers windpipe. "I wouldn't suggest trying that one again."

Ron coughed. "Fuck you!"

Shrugging, he glanced at the fireplace. "See, your wife is coming home with me tonight, Weasely. She's so tired of your selfish behavior and abuse, that she decided to find herself better living conditions. Oddly enough, they came from me." His lip twitched. "You have to be pretty shitty, Weasel if you can't even treat someone like her right. There are so many things I want to do to you, Weasely, in regards to the condition she arrived at my Manor in several days ago, but I'm going to resist- at least for today." Pocketing his wand, he took several steps back before grabbing a handful of powder.

Ron jumped to his feet, scrambling for his wand. The dolt didn't even have enough common sense to turn around and grab it from its position on the floor. Before he left though, the blonde had one last thing to say to the scatterbrained redhead.

"When you're sleeping with your dirty little secret tonight, Weasely, I hope you think of Hermione. Because you're never going to know which bed she is sleeping in at my Manor." He saw the anger streak across Ron's face and smirked. Without waiting for the idiot to start another argument, he dropped the powder and zipped away, hoping his final words bothered the dumbarse the rest of the night.

* * *

"What do you mean he did nothing?" she asked, sitting on her bed. He had only returned a few moments earlier, but the typical Hermione was back and hounding him with questions. She actually thought it was a fine idea to sit in his room and wait, hugging one of the most comfortable pillows on his bed to her chest.

"Look, Granger- Hermione…" He fumbled, brushing elegant fingers through his tousled hair as he fought for the correct moniker to call her. They weren't staging an intricate show now, and there was no one around to antagonize. From the corner of his eye he could see her head cock to the side.

"Hermione," she said clearly, answering his unspoken question. "Call me Hermione. I know that I only used your first name back there to spite Ron, but I think if we can call each other by our given names in the presence of other people that we can do it when we are alone, _Draco_." She dragged out the last word, obviously trying to prove her point.

He was thankful for her decision, and chose to go with it. "Alright then. Look, Hermione, your husband is a twisted fuck, and I would like nothing more than to break his nose in. It's the least he deserves, with his attitude and destructive actions. But I suspect that enough problems will arise from what happened tonight, considering that Brown was also present during that entire dispute, and we all know she is a bloody gossip. She's going to be bragging about this little situation tomorrow for sure, and she didn't need to have a fight story to add into the mix of things. This will look bad enough."

Her hand slowly rose to her mouth, her eyes widening in horror. "Oh Merlin, I didn't think of that! Circe, now it's going to be even harder to get things done! The newspapers will have a fit about this, and everything is going to get twisted around to make me look like the bad guy! It'll be hard to push for divorce on my part if the judge thinks I'm sleezy while I'm married!"

"Calm down," he said, resting his arm on the wall beside him so he had somewhere to set his head. "Don't jump to conclusions just yet. We don't know what's going to come out of this. Besides, your _sweet_ has a rough hand. He might just convince her to stay quiet."

The silence in the room felt suffocating to that, and he quickly knew that had been the wrong thing to say. Panic filled the woman's eyes, and she immediately made to jump off the bed. He predicted her actions though, and lunged across his bed to catch her around her waist before she could escape. He flipped her over so she was looking up at him, his torso leaning over hers.

"Look," he said with a grunt, "Don't panic. I'll owl over there right now and try to stop whatever could possibly happen."

She shifted beneath him. "It's not good enough. If he is beating her up over this, I won't forgive myself. Lavender might be sleeping with my husband, but she wasn't meant to see any of that, and she doesn't deserve to be harassed because of it."

"But she did choose to stay with your husband, Hermione, even though everyone knows that you both are married. She should've predicted that this would be a complicated situation."

The girl glanced away, but he could feel her unease. Realizing that he still had the better half of her pinned, he rolled on his back. It was probably best to not terrify her again. Once more, silence set in.

"Can I ask you something, Draco?" she said at length, her voice coming out a bit shaky. Instantly, he wondered if she had been quietly crying and if he had simply missed it as he became lost in his own thoughts.

"I suppose."

Another silence followed before she spoke. "You said you didn't physically harm Ron, but I don't understand. The entire time we were there it seemed like you would like nothing more than to do just that."

Draco chuckled to this, immediately spitting out a reply. "Well, that's a simple answer really. You see, Hermione, I believe that if I started hitting him, I wouldn't be able to stop."


	25. Aftermath: Hall

**A/n**: Here's another update, and we are going to focus on Draco's Dark Mark more here. Hope you enjoy! Thanks to my beta **loveinthemadness**! **Not yet edited. And as always, check me out on facebook! The link is up on my profile.

* * *

The following morning Hermione realized she had slept very little. Draco's words echoed over and over again inside her head, toying with everything she knew. Sure, he seemed very adapt to hating domestic violence, but nonetheless it didn't explain his severe hate towards the subject. Ron was certainly in the wrong for what he had done, but she didn't get why it affected the blonde so much.

At some point in the night it passed through her mind that Draco might like her, but she shushed the idea. That would go against everything he stood for; he had changed, but not that much. His strange behavior had to be the product of some other source of reasoning. Struggling out of the comforting warmth of her bed, she stretched, rubbing her eyes slowly.

"_Well, that's a simple answer really. You see Hermione, I believe that if I started hitting him, I wouldn't be able to stop."_

His words played a repetitive lullaby as she walked to the bathroom, ready to shower. She felt a bit more reassured that he did actually want to help knowing that he actually felt some kind of need to protect her. Why did he want to protect her? She didn't know- and she didn't want to know. Knowing might ruin the lovely allusion she had in her mind about his caring nature. Maybe this entire thing wasn't just about getting rid of his scar and making his life easier. It was at least nice to consider.

Little did she know that the tranquility of her thoughts would be rudely interrupted just hours from now. She had no idea that she would have to face more old enemies.

* * *

Draco didn't say a word to her the entire morning; she never even saw him. Instead of trespassing on the man's room, Hermione chose to occupy herself with the salve in his potions lab. She was neglecting that job as much as her actual career lately, and she needed to start earning as much money as possible if she hoped to move out on her own when her divorce was finalized.

That is, if she ever got to file for a divorce. The newspaper lay untouched at her side, the article on the front page seeming daunting. She didn't want to read about all the gossip and lies printed on the front page.

At length, she glanced at the clock and realized she was hours past lunch, having been lost in the whirlwind of concentration involved when trying to discover which potion ingredients would work best together. So far she still wasn't having much luck. Yawning, she snatched up the paper and headed for the door, intent on burning the pages in the fireplace in her room before she went to find something to eat.

Walking into the hallway, she glanced at her surroundings. Up until this time she really hadn't bothered to look at the expensive décor around her. But truth be told, the Manor was rather lovely. Everything appeared a bit gloomy, yes, but there was no denying that it was exquisite. Whether Malfoy was personally responsible for the way things looked or not didn't matter just then, and she marveled at the luxurious amber rugs that covered an old, stony floor and the candles that lay suspended from the ceiling. Had she really been so worried about her situation that she had never noticed any of this beauty until now?

Rounding a corner, she found herself too lost in the scenery around her to notice the figure hobbling along the floor. Bumping into the person, she grunted as she was shoved back by a tall frame, and from a moment thought it was Draco who was pushing her around.

Snapping her head back up after her fall, she discovered that this person was not Draco at all. The hair was too long, the frame slightly too short. Livid eyes glared down at her, and she scurried to her feet in the presence of him. This was not her husband; this was someone she had never been able to tolerate, and who only knew how to hate her. She had no problem thinking about all the wicked spells she could shoot his way.

"Miss Granger," he said coolly, though his eyes seemed unfocused. "I never thought anyone would give me the pleasure of viewing a _war hero _in real life again. I always supposed it would come from tainted photographs that only show a glimpse of time." He sneered at her. "What are you doing here?"

Hermione raised an eyebrow at the man, recalling the blonde's recollection of both his parents behind insane. But she didn't think this man before her appeared insane- angry, but not insane. Perhaps Azkaban wasn't the trauma to his father's mind that the blonde made it out to be.

"I'm walking," she said coolly in return, fingering her wand in her pocket. "I've been invited her if you desire to know. Now I would be grateful if you would let me pass. I'm not bothering you." Maybe if she was civil, he would let her pass and they could stop looking at each other. She felt like he was studying everything about her under his gaze, and she really wasn't sure she liked it.

"Who invited you?" He pressed, stepping closer but she pulled her wand out quickly and pointed it at his chest.

"Who do you think?" she spat, just as she heard footsteps approaching. Very sure she knew who was coming their way, she rolled her eyes and raised her voice. "It would've helped if you were a little earlier!"

Just as she predicted, Draco rounded the corner behind her, and without looking up she could hear his footsteps increasing when he saw the scene. Half a moment later, he was at her side.

"Leave her alone father," he said sternly, reaching up to pull her hand down, but she remained firm. Did he really think she would let him defend her as though she didn't know how to fight at all?

"I'm only speaking to her," the older man replied, angling his head towards her again. "Correct?"

"Correct," she agreed, glancing at the blonde now. "I was just leaving in fact. Good day Lucius."

Obviously her blatant disregard for the meeting surprised both the Malfoy men, and as she turned and walked the other direction she could hear Draco loudly whispering to his father, and he didn't sound pleased. Yet she couldn't help but feel irritated with him that he felt he had to protect her so much when she knew how to fight. So long as it wasn't Ron she didn't seem to crumble quite so much.

The girl had absolutely no idea where she was going as she walked, but a few minutes later and several turns away Draco caught up with her, grabbing her arm.

"You're getting further and further away from you're room," he said gruffly, his voice holding a pained twinge that she didn't understand. "My father's gone now, you can come back this way."

She pulled out of his grasp, walking ahead. "I could've walked the other way the first time Draco, I just chose to separate myself from the two of you. Was that really necessary?"

"Yes," he hissed, gripping his arm. She remained faced away and didn't notice the action.

"Look, I really appreciate what you did for me regarding Ron. Everyone knows I wouldn't have been able to fight him myself. But that doesn't mean that I can't handle myself with anyone. I do know how to defend myself, and I certainly don't have a problem fighting your father after everything." She cut herself off there, afraid of continuing on. She might just start ranting if that were the case.

"I wasn't concerned about you not being able to handle yourself," he scoffed. "But you don't know him Hermione. He's… sneaky. You don't know his intent there. I don't even know what he wanted from you- maybe it was nothing." The lost word came out in grit, and she finally glanced back, catching the pained expression on his face. Immediately, she stopped.

"Are you alright? Is it bothering you again? I mean the mark?"

"It always bothers me," he snapped, his irritation levels higher than usual. He sighed when he saw her brow furrow. "Right now it's worse than usual, but overtime I've learned to adapt to the pain."

Her frown deepened. "Well then, you should be lying down, not chasing me through the halls. If it's causing a lot of pain moving around a lot probably won't help very much. Come on," she said, looping her arm through his opposite one that wasn't in pain, "Back to bed."

If he was confused by her sudden change in mood, he said nothing about it on the walk back to his room. Although she was the one pulling him along as the aggravating pain increased, it was the blonde that led the way. Try as she may, she really didn't remember the exact path back to their rooms.

It was only when she had shoved him into bed that she bothered to speak again, turning away to search for the small amount of expensive salve he still had. "I understand that your father is a shady character Draco, but I can handle myself. Ron is the only person I've ever let hurt me, the only one I've never hit back." She found the container in one of his drawers and fished it out, bringing it to him. "Besides, that's not even that big of a deal now. It appears that you would have no problem beating him up for me."

"I thought we already went over this. I won't hit him Hermione, because I won't stop." He was about to dip his fingers into the container when she snatched it away at the last second, choosing to apply it herself. They sat silently until she was done.

"But if he hurt me again, things would be different," she mused. "Don't get me wrong, I have no intention of crossing paths with him ever when we are alone, I'm just saying. You get very defensive of me at times."

"So glad you noticed," he said sarcastically, keeping his eyes closed. Despite his mood, she didn't feel that offset by his tone. There was no venom in it.

"Were you serious when you said that your mark always bothers you?" she asked at length, finding it awkward to just sit on the side of his bed while he kept his eyes closed. The slave needed to dry, and his arm was quite heavy to hold up. She hadn't even realized she was still holding it until that moment.

"It comes and goes; someday are better than others. Like I've said Hermione, it's all dependent on your affiliation with the Dark Lord. I had more than my fair share of spells thrown my way, and I spent more than enough time in his presence."

She nodded slowly. "What's it feel like when it's not as bad?"

"It's just a dull irritation. I've come to ignore it when it's not bad. Sometimes it can reach a slight burn, but its manageable."

"It doesn't sound pleasant," she said, speaking her thoughts out loud.

"It's not." He finally opened his eyes, pulling his arm away to touch the pained area. "Today it's not nearly as bad as it can get, thank Merlin. It would've been much harder to deal with my father if I were crippled."

"I was fine," she reminded him sternly.

"And as I have said Hermione, I don't trust him." He forced himself to sit up, his voice no longer holding a pained undertone at least. Grabbing the container, he sighed. "I'll need to be getting myself more of this. I can't just hold out until you come up with a replacement salve."

She nodded, a bit disappointed in herself. She was after all being paid to create a new salve for him, and so far she had come up with absolutely nothing. "Do you have enough if this happens again?"

"Yes, once more at least, but I don't like to get that low. Sometimes the pains come more than once a day." He ran his other hand through his hair. "I best go back tomorrow and purchase some more."

She smiled. "I'll come with you. Maybe I can bribe this man into giving away some of his secrets to it."

Immediately, the blonde tensed. "I'm not sure that's such a good idea."

"Well, why not?"

"First of all, it's right by your old place of work. You might run into familiar faces. And on top of that, the man I buy this from is another shady character. I'm hardly comfortable going to see him some days. I might've hung around some dark characters in the past, but he is just a bit too creepy for my standards."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. That didn't sound like a very promising description, but she would not be deterred. "It doesn't matter if he's disturbing; the fact of the matter is he might be helpful." She stood, stretching, and missed his traveling eyes. "I thought you would be happy for any chance that I can get that might move my salve making along."

"I suppose," he said wearily, still sounding unsure.

"Oh, and one other thing," she continued, thoughtfully tapping her chin, "I think you should call Blaise over here."

"Why?"

"Because he had the mark too, and his reactions are different. Maybe if I understand the basic connection between the pain the both of you suffer, I'll be able to find ingredients that work better for the purpose. Then I can go through the lovely task of trying to make them into a solid to cover the Dark Mark, unless of course I can make a potion that works wonders…" she trailed off, lost in her own thoughts.

"If you think it's going to help," he relented, lying back down.

"I do," she said triumphantly. "Owl him whenever you feel better, and just let me know when to expect him."

"Of course."

"Thank you. Now I should probably get back to the lab. I've completely forgotten why I came down here in the first place. And you- well, you need to get some rest." She waved at him as she made her way to the door. "Sleep well Draco."

"Goodbye Hermione," he said, shutting his eyes. As the door clicked shut, he sighed. If that woman wanted to make herself as problematic as possible, she was doing a fine job. He had a very bad feeling circulating throughout his stomach about how awful things could go if he brought her along to meet his old dealer.

At least she agreed to go with him. He would feel a whole lot worse if she tried going all by herself. The girl just needed to stay in a safe environment for a little while, at least until things began to blow over.


	26. Aftermath: Meeting

**A/n:** Here's another update! Thanks to my beta **loveinthemadness**! Not yet edited.

* * *

The street was just as she remembered it, uninviting and eerie. They walked closely together, and thankfully the blonde had used some more of the salve before they departed, so he was not wincing with every other step he took. That was the good news.

The bad news was that just as he predicted, people remembered her. Usual's to the pub waved her way, indicating that she should come closer and chat. The girl continued to brush by them, thankful that she had the blonde at her side. He seemed to be ignoring everyone just then, but at least he kept them from drawing closer. None of those people really knew anything about her, just that she was once a shot girl. None of them knew whether or not she was seeing him or not. A small smile crept onto her face; perhaps she wouldn't have to speak to anyone at all.

He shuffled closer to her when they turned down what she had always supposed was an alley. But the further they walked, the more she saw. Blinking, she realized this place was cloaked to appear like an alley, so unwanted visitors wouldn't wander down there. Hermione had just begun to look around when he forced her hood up over her head.

"Don't let them see your face," he said sternly, walking beside her. "People in this place can hardly stand me, let alone someone like you."

Huffing at Draco's words, she straightened the hood and peered around. A few bystanders where peering over at her curiously, but she didn't hold their gaze. Immediately she knew this place was dangerous.

"A lot of illegal things must get sold down here," she mused, glancing around at the dingy buildings.

"You're right," he agreed, stepping back to walk directly next to her. "It's a black market here, and things are heavily overpriced. I don't particularly enjoy coming here anymore, not since the war ended. There are some dangerous figures that lurk in the shadows here."

"Dangerous figures hide everywhere," she countered, glancing at a passing woman her face shrouded and ducked so that her facial features couldn't be made out. "It's not about the figures hiding Draco, but the motives behind their lurking. So long as they leave you be, they can't fully be considered dangerous."

He nodded, though she could tell he wasn't exactly paying attention. His eyes danced around the place as they walked, as though he was on the lookout for someone he didn't want to see. They fell into silence, and she continued to walk with her head slightly bowed. Best to not start an uproar all because a gust of wind blew her hood off.

She didn't know much about this man, save a brief description Draco gave her before they flooed to this part of London. He was old, and apparently a stickler to his tastes. He liked high prices and small quantities, which in Malfoy's world wouldn't be a problem if the salve wasn't preventing unconditional pain on a continual basis. But Hermione was very uninterested in the amount of salve given, so much as what was in it. That was the main reason she decided to tag along; she wanted to see if the man would let anything slip about his ingredients.

Draco was not so optimistic. He didn't think she would learn anything by coming along. Hopefully, she could prove him wrong.

"Please don't start throwing out questions," he cautioned as they paused outside a door. "He's stubborn, and he likes to cut straight to the chase. And Hermione? Keep that damn hood up the entire time; don't look at his face. He's a racist, and although he never formally joined the Death Eater's I know that he is a Voldemort follower. I can't quite predict what he would do if he realized who you are, but let's not give him a way to find out, shall we?" She nodded, tired of him trying to hide her. Sure, she knew it was for the best at the moment but that didn't mean she appreciated it.

Inside, she never thought she would see such a crowded place. From outside, it appeared that the windows were simply darkened by drapes, but it was another story entirely. She couldn't even figure out where the windows should be once stepping through the threshold, due to the ridiculous amount of clutter that awaited them. Potion supplies of all sorts littered the walls, as well as some rather unfortunate animals that she couldn't quite stomach looking at. There were rags, the skeletons of ill-treated house elves, and an array of other seemingly random objects as they walked further into the establishment. She felt her blood chill as they neared a desk, and she noticed some rope that was supposedly _charmed_ to keep Mudblood's at bay, rendering them unable to use magic while bound by the thick ties. She wasn't sure she believed that bollocks, but the mere fact that something repulsive like that existed made her skin crawl. Now she wasn't so sure she wanted to speak to this man at all. But she went there with a purpose, and she fully intended to see it through.

Draco tapped a bell, and half a moment later a grouchy man stomped out through a door that had to lead to the back. He was tall, matching the blonde's height almost identically, though he did have a slight hunchback. White hair lay matted to his head, and even from her spot behind Draco she could tell it was very greasy, flicked with slight bits of dirt. His hands were callused and cut, and she thought it was quite gross that he allowed the cuts to continue bleeding even while speaking to a customer.

"Mr. Malfoy," he said roughly, eyeing the young man in front of him for a moment before turning his gaze to Hermione's hidden face. "I see you've finally gotten off your arse and come back for more of that potion. I must be honest, I thought that you had finally decided to let yourself die."

"Unfortunately, no," Draco spat in return, and already there was obvious tension in the room. This man was nowhere near professional. "Well, go get it then, if you already know that that's why I am here."

The old man frowned, still watching Hermione. She observed the scene from beneath the hood, and watched as he quickly moved from behind the counter to stand beside them. "And then is she you're payment then for today?" he asked, cleaning off his hands. Her eyebrows shot up, and before Draco could stop her she had her wand drawn.

"If you're insinuating that he brought me here to offer you some form of service to pleasure you, then you're sourly mistaken. That might be acceptable payment in your line of business, but prostitution isn't something I will partake in-" She would say more, but Draco leaned forward and pulled her wand away.

"Don't mind her, she's a bit temperamental today," he said, draping an arm over her shoulders. "I'll be paying you in cash however," he continued when the man's gaze didn't soften. "I always pay for what I purchase."

"Yes well, just keep her restrained."

She tensed at that, but the man at her side gripped her shoulder and smirked. "Of course."

The nameless salesman walked into the back again, and she spun to face Draco. "You will most certainly _not_ be restraining me! The nerve of that man!"

"No, I won't," he agreed without missing a beat, "But if I tell him I will, the conversation drops. Besides, you can't just go around pointing your wand at every person that irritates you. Life doesn't work that way."

"Oh don't lecture me," she snapped, crossing her arms stubbornly, "You do the same thing."

"Maybe I do, but right now it would be a good idea to not be so rash. I'm sure you noticed some of the merchandise on the way in, but I believe you have also failed to notice exactly why I pulled you away from someone who wouldn't even defend himself."

She paused. That was a bit of a curiosity, considering that he didn't even look like he cared. When she didn't answer, the blonde cocked an eyebrow and pointed up, and she followed his finger. There was quite an array of snakes hanging from ceiling decorations, all of which were looking down at them with hatred. She felt her mouth fall open a bit and she looked back at him.

"I didn't even notice."

"It took me a few visits to notice. They are very quiet, and they rarely hiss. But they obey his every command, and that's not a good thing. I was getting worried that they would come down to visit if we weren't careful. And in all honesty, I didn't expect you to be so feisty. With everything we passed, I had hoped you would be a hint more hesitant."

She turned her nose up, and the hood slid back a bit. "I'm not going to be hesitant when people assume disgusting things about me. He had no right thinking that."

"No, but its what he is accustomed to." He shrugged as the girls glare hardened. "It's not like its customary among Purebloods to sell women or anything like that, but he's a hell of a lot older than the bloody man appears. In his time it was probably not so unusual for a hooded woman to-"

"I understand," she interjected. "However, instead of being insulted again, I think I'll just go stand outside."

"I'm not sure-"

"I'll be fine," she called, already walking out the door. She didn't think she could hold her tongue if he made another comment like that, and the fact that Draco thought she could was almost comical. Sighing at the dreary scene once she got outside, she sat on the step and waited to for him to finish. There went her entire reason for coming, but she didn't feel like having another pointless conversation with him.

She had only been sitting there for a minute or so when she registered that someone was hurrying towards her. Cursing, she wished that she had taken her want back from Draco before she stepped outside, and quickly turned to face the oncoming person. Her eyes grew as she recognized who was approaching.

"Seamus?" she said, startled at who she saw. He seemed just as surprised to see her, and stopped panting in front of her, before sitting at her side. He glanced around, noting the people passing by.

"Never thought I would see you down here again," he said carefully, obviously trying to not use her real name in this dangerous environment. "What are you doing back down here?"

"I'm with Draco," she said, not bothering to come up with a lie. He had been at the pub enough times when the blonde was around to know that she was associating with him, and since there was surely an article up about them already declaring flase things, she didn't see any reason to lie. Actually, that might make things worse. "He had to pick something up?"

"And you came with him?" he asked, sounding confused as to why she would want to do that. She didn't even know why she bothered coming along anymore. "To this part of town?"

"Yes," she said, eeys narrowing. "And what are you doing down here? I know this place is close to the club, but its also a black market place and its allegedly only being used by dark wizards or previously dark wizards." She folded her arms. "From what I knew, you've never been the bad guy."

He narrowed his eyes as well. "Like you said Hermione, this is the black market basically. I come here to get what I need." He stood quickly as the door opened, signaling that Draco was finished. "If you need me though, you know where to find me." Before she could reply, he was hurring off again.

"What was that?" Draco asked as he helped her to her feet.

She only shook her head, thinking that the entire encounter was a bit strange. "You know, I'm not entirely sure."

"Well, I got the salve, though I wasn't able to bribe any of the ingredients from him. Looks like you're going to have to use that head of yours."

"Indeed," she replied as they began walking, but her mind was elsewhere. Something about Seamus seemed very strange today, and she fully intended to contact him now like he offered. She had a few questions rising up in her mind, questions that needed to be answered.


	27. Aftermath: Newspaper

**A/n**: New chapter here! Hope you enjoy and you can always look me up on facebook! The links on my profile. As usual, thanks to my beta **loveinthemadness**! *Not yet edited.

* * *

The following morning Hermione found herself in a good mood. Despite her strange meeting with Seamus the previous day, she hadn't let that dampen her moods. In fact, she almost felt that she was making progress with the salve issue. She took a hot, relaxing shower before attempting to go and do something productive. Stopping in the dining room before she went to the lab to begin working, she spotted the newspaper sitting on the counter. Picking it up, she almost choked on the headline there, the apple she had been chewing suddenly becoming an obstacle in her airway. She managed to swallow the bite as she scrambled to pick up the paper, her eyes bulging out at the headline.

_Golden Couple on the Rocks?_

_We've been hearing rumors floating around London lately that St. Hermione Weasely is not the pristine wife so many people dictate her to be. After the scandal last summer that tried to pinpoint the woman working as a stripper, people have had doubts in their minds that the sweet girl may not be who she portrays. _

_Even after her marriage to Ron Weasely, the woman still calls herself Granger in many aspects- even at work. Co-workers explained to me that the woman has always been very direct when it comes to getting work done, but lately she doesn't even seem to be around. We are all very aware that she has not been staying in the home of her devoted husband, but then where is the fair girl staying? _

_Recently, we got the juicy details from someone close to Ron. The so-called Auror often ignores work to go gambling, which would often be enough to drive a wife crazy. On more than a few occasions we have seen the duo screaming at each other in public places, and there are whispered rumors that money is tight. Well we can believe that, if Ron Weasely- war hero- goes out to gamble four out of every five work days? Is this perhaps the madness that may have sent Hermione Weasely running to a friend's house?_

_It seems that one of the most prestigious couples may be sitting in a hard spot right now. But looks can be deceiving, and it may be more than just a few disagreements that have both parts of the married couple hot under the collar! A reporter on duty noted Lavender Brown- the well-known gold digger of London, always searching for fame and fortune, and also one of Ron Weasely's biggest fans- walking into the apartment complex our golden couple lives in. And what's worse? We think she went into the apartment the pair shares when Ron was home, but Hermione was reportedly already staying someplace else. Yikes! _

_We are all left wondering now, what is the real dish behind the Weasley couple? Has sweet Hermione gone and found a different man to appease her when her own only spends their- supposedly- limited funds? Or perhaps Ron Weasley is just lonely in the bedroom now that his wife has all but disappeared! _

_So the question arises; where is Hermione Weasely? She was seen at work some days ago, but has not yet returned. Why would that be? Though her friends do seem less than concerned about her whereabouts, and more than a few reporters are certain they know where she is. Why else would Ronald be the only one in a uproar? _

_To top off the drama our dear readers, our sources tell us that Mrs. Weasely has filed for divorce! A ministry leak led us to this find, and Merlin can we say that it's a shocker! Why would the couple want to leave one another, or is it only Hermione that wishes to sever her ties to her lover? What would be the cause for such measures? We aren't sure yet, but boy oh boy it has got to be juicy!_

_So what do you think? Is Hermione secretly off romancing herself with an unknown wizard, is Ron cheating on her and causing this divorce from the start, or is there an unknown third layer that explains what happens to our golden couple? We plan to let you in on all the details! But first and foremost, we must find the missing girl. _

_Hopefully, our golden couple can be saved!_

She wanted to vomit. Whoever wrote the article was obviously doing a lot of in depth research if she knew so much. Hermione hated to admit it but not all the things stated were wrong; she was kind of hiding, partially romancing herself in an oddly encased fantasy that starred Draco. Shaking her head, she tossed the paper across the table. Now she was just letting the words of the article get to her.

But one thing really stuck out to her in the article more than anything else. The writer mentioned divorce, which was something she had only discussed with Harry, and Draco. She hadn't even filed yet! How would anyone know that she planned to leave Ron, unless they were simply making assumptions? She just couldn't picture Harry or Draco betraying her like that, not after all the shit they had gone through concerning this problem.

Something dawned on her then. _What if Harry tried to tell Ginny, and she let the divorce idea slip to someone? Maybe that's how this stuff got leaked. _

She shook her head. That didn't make much sense either. For once in her life the paper wasn't just sprouting complete lies. Unfortunately, it was closer to the truth than she would like to admit. Whoever wrote the article really did their research, and really tried to keep their facts straight.

_Lavender? _No, that didn't quite make sense either. If Lavender leaked any of the facts, why would she include any details that might make her look bad? Unless, unless the writer twisted her words…

Footsteps caught her attention, pulling her from the swirl of her thoughts. Hopefully, Lucius Malfoy wasn't prowling the halls again, for she wasn't sure she could handle the strange man again. But fortunately, it was Draco who walked into the dining room, raising an eyebrow when he noticed her strained expression.

"Something wrong?"

Unwilling to explain the idiocy she read, the brunette beckoned to the paper she had tossed. Glancing oddly at her, he walked past her to the paper and quickly scanned the contents, before tossing it aside as well.

"Golden couple? Well, the papers really don't know anything at all."

She shook her head. "No, but whoever wrote it did know quite a bit of information. Everyone knows I'm not living with Ron anymore, but only Harry knows where I am. I received an owl from him last night actually, saying that he's been telling Luna and the like that I'm fine, but I don't want to see anyone right now. It probably sounds suspicious but its keeping my friends from worrying about me."

"I see," he mused. "Couldn't Luna _or the like _talk at your divorce hearing, whenever you decide to file that. Seems like they might be easier to convince to be on your side than the ginger's bloody sister."

Hermione shrugged. "Maybe, but Ginny would be best. She's close to the both of us, closer than Neville or Luna… or Seamus. It would just be better."

He narrowed his eyes at her, obviously picking up on her odd tone when she mentioned the Irish bloke. However he seemed to know that it wasn't the time to bring it up, and continued right on with the topic at hand. "Who wrote the article? You might want to watch out for that person."

"It doesn't say," she sighed. "It just says anonymous, which means it could've been a submitted article that a professional on the Daily Prophet staff tweaked to be their own, or an outside source collaborated with someone else in order to create the entry." She huffed. "Or someone is simply too chicken to admit that they wrote this bogus article in the first place. At least half of it has to be based off of assumption. And at the end it asks more questions than anything."

The blonde frowned. "I didn't even realize they allowed writers to publish under an anonymous title. Seems a bit cheap for the paper." He shrugged. "It could've been a lot worse though Hermione. If the writer was legit, they would've had a name. And if any real background research was done, they might've even dug up information on abuse. This article could almost be considered bland, and you can at least consider yourself lucky in that aspect. At least it doesn't hit on anything too sensitive."

She wasn't sure she completely agreed, after all, the writer was publicizing her life for everyone to read. It was all a sensitive topic, though he was right that the truly bad aspects of it all was at least hidden still. Again, her mind trailed back to Lavender, but she shook her head. She really had no idea who it might be.

That being said, she couldn't just sit there all day and thing about it. Turning away, she spoke, "I should get to work on the potion. No telling how much longer it will take to make any more progress."

He nodded from behind her, though he could tell she was cutting the conversation short. "If you insist."

"I do," she agreed quickly, before hurrying away. In her wake he sat there, mulling things over. He really had no idea who may have written the article, for he very rarely read anything in the paper that had to do with gossip; he was a news person. Still, he had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach that they would hear a lot more from this writer before her divorce was through. If they were lucky, nothing would be extorted for the public to view until after everything was finalized. He hoped for her sake that nothing got too out of hand in the coming weeks.

He almost laughed at himself. Nothing was ever that easy.

* * *

"Does it ever hurt?" she asked, hoping she didn't seem too strange being there. It was later in the day, and Blaise Zabini had been owled to come over. She knew very little of Draco's standpoint with his Italian friend, except that they both had the same mark tattooed on their skin, and Zabini's almost never hurt, where Draco's often did.

"Rarely," the Italian replied, studying the girl. He hadn't know he was coming over to be inspected by Weasely's wife until he arrived, and there was currently a surplus of questions lingering in his mind. He dared not ask any though, not while the watchful eyes of his friend looked on at them. There was something about Draco that day that had him on edge. The blonde almost seemed uncomfortable having his longtime friend there, and that was an oddity in itself. Blaise could hardly recall a time when the pair disliked the others company. Out of everyone in Slytherin house, they had been the closest to each other. Zabini even surpassed Malfoy's childhood bodyguards on the friend scale, and that was saying something. "I know Draco's often bothers him."

The blonde glared at his friend from where he sat for that comment, but held his tongue. The curious eyes of the brunette looked up to witness the exchange, but she didn't seem to understand. If anything, she didn't seem to sense anything happening between the two.

But Draco did. He knew Zabini threw that remark out to see if she said anything in return. The git was always trying to see if his friend would find someone he liked and keep her at his home, trying to persuade her into marriage. The Mudblood seemed like a far-fetched idea for his usually racist friend, but one never knew. If Draco had to suspect anything, he thought the remark was made to see if her response had any emotions lingering in it that might suggest that they were an item. And Malfoy could clearly see that question swimming in his friends eyes. After all, Hermione Weasely had been missing for a while, only appearing in the public eye on occasion. Everyone knew she didn't live with her spouse anymore.

"I want to run a test," she said, breaking the long silence. She glanced up at Blaise who sat on the potion table, but he only raised his eyebrows. "Now, I have only done this test a few times and I really don't want to get it wrong. I'm going to run back to my room real quick and look at my notes, and then I'll try it out. I promise, it won't hurt."

"Whatever you say," he agreed, and the two men watched her hurry off. It was obvious she was eager to attempt this spell, though neither of them was quite sure what was so special.

When she was gone, Blaise looked back at his friend. "So, Granger, huh? Or should I say Weasely, since she is married now. Funny, I never thought I would see her here, not when her bloody husband has been wandering around London searching for wherever she is hiding. Seems a bit strange that she's hiding out here- hell, she even has a _room_."

Draco rolled his eyes. "You don't understand the situation Blaise. It's far more complicated than you would think."

"Then enlighten me," he challenged, raising an eyebrow. "This ought to be a good tale."

"It's really not my story to tell," he replied tensely. "Look, she wanted me to owl you over here. The article I'm sure you read about her in the paper this morning distressed her, and before she ever started staying here we made an agreement that she would help me figure out a better salve to deal with the pains of my tattoo in exchange for money."

Blaise frowned. "Now why would she need to make a deal like that?"

"Like I said, it's not-" He cut himself off as the door swung back open, revealing the girl once more. She smiled as she walked over, a piece of paper clutched tightly in her hand, and the current discussion was dropped. But Draco could see his friend eyeing him suspiciously as the brunette continued her work, the gears in his head turning as he tried to work out the strange clues the blonde let slip.

It was then that Draco regretted having such an observant friend. Bringing Blaise over could be dangerous if they didn't explain things to him in a sensible manner, and since he didn't know what was going on, if they let anything else slip it could be completely misunderstood. He just hoped that she wouldn't have another slip of the tongue as she continued working, his grey eyes watching her movements.

_He's going to be asking me all sorts of questions about this later. _

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**A/n: **Hope you enjoyed! Shoot me a review so I know how it's coming along :D And I promise, the part with Blaise does have a purpose!


	28. Aftermath: Discover

**A/n**: Hope you like it! We are still looking into dark topics here. Thanks to my beta **loveinthemadness**! **Not yet edited. And as always, check me out on facebook! The link is up on my profile.

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Blaise didn't stay around long after Hermione finished examining him. However, Draco could just tell from the way he kept eyeing both of them that he would be expected to answer the Italian's questions about what was going on between them at some point. Hopefully, that wouldn't come up again for quite a while.

As soon as he could, the blonde retired to his room. He was tired, a bit stressed, but mostly the tattoo was causing him pain again. He wanted nothing more than to curl up beneath the covers and not deal with the world anymore.

On the other hand, Hermione remained working hours after the blonde left. It was frustrating for her to work on something for so long and make such little headway. Wasn't she supposed to be the brightest witch of her age? If that was true, then why could a creepy, ancient, racist man discover how to create something soothing for the dark tattoo, but she couldn't even figure out the components to get anywhere?

It wasn't just that she was feeling a bit defeated by the task; she felt she owed it to Malfoy- to Draco. He helped her out a lot- an awful lot more than they ever agreed to. He gave her a place to stay where no one would bother her, an out from an abusive relationship with someone who used her for all she was worth, and then he tried to make her feel better about herself when things seemed to be going nowhere. And what had she done for him? Nothing so far.

Hermione hated to feel like dead weight to someone; she could hold her own, and she could manage herself. She disliked ignoring her Ministry job, but a small whisper of fear lingered in her mind and her heart. What would she do if she did encounter Ron again? She felt bad for him, but mostly now she was just angry. He was cheating on her, making her look like the bad guy, when it was all his fault. Everything she had done since day one had been for him, right up until he crossed the line. He had to stand on his own now, and from what she had seen so far that wasn't fairing too well for him. After all, he was sleeping around with Lavender and probably ignoring his Ministry job too. But the difference between them was that she could still make an income if she didn't go to work every day by helping Malfoy; he could not.

She was beginning to get tired when something caught her attention; the telltale sign of tapping. It was such a familiar noise that it didn't bother her-it almost had a little rhythm about it this time. Turning away from her table she walked to one of the windows in the room, one of the constantly closed windows. Did these people believe in natural light? She wasn't entirely sure, but she wished they did. It would make things brighter in the dreary home if they would just open the curtains!

And she did open them, as well as the window itself to allow in a bird. She recognized the creature immediately as Harry and Ginny's bird; the one Harry had bought to replace poor Hedwig after the war. She caressed long feathers briefly, welcoming the beautiful bird in before untying the letter on its leg. She was a bit hesitant to read it, considering she didn't know which Potter this was from. This could be good or bad news. Deciding not to let herself think about it too much, she tore open the manila envelope and read the contents;

_Hermione~_

_Where the bloody hell are you? Enough is enough! I knew there had to be complications between you and Ron, but really, you've let it get this far? This is ridiculous! The pair of you is becoming a high gossip topic in the city, and we all know that's no good! Whatever is going on, you two just need to work it out. It's horrible that the newspaper actually had enough information to print an article on you two! Do you even understand what kind of awful publicity you are getting?_

_Where are you staying? We really need to talk! I know Ron can be thick-headed, but he's really hurt that you won't return! Merlin, he actually came over yesterday to try and talk to us about his heartache! Ron, of all people! I know he's bad with money, and I know he is a complete careless git, but nothing is going to be solved by you avoiding him. Please just go back to the apartment- he misses you. I've never seen him so sad, ever! Whatever he did, he feels like an absolute jerk about it. I think you owe it to yourself and your marriage to at least talk to him._

_Please tell me you're not staying with another man- that would be the gossip for the next three years if you are! Why don't you at least come stay with Harry and I? That way you can at least talk to Ron and try to make things work out. I read some nonsense in the paper about the possibility of a divorce between the two of you? Please tell me that's just a silly rumor! You can't get divorced- you were made for each other!_

_Hermione, please talk to me. I want to help the two of you work this out, but I'm not entirely sure what happened to start breaking your marriage apart. When Ron came over one day saying he couldn't find you, I knew something was wrong. Harry keeps telling me that we need to sit down and have a long talk, but about what? I know it pertains to both of you, but what could he tell me that you can't?_

_What's going on Hermione? What happened to the two of you?_

_Please, owl me back,_

_~Ginny_

She sighed and pushed the letter away. She was worried that Ginny might contact her after the newspaper column on them, but she didn't think there would be so many questions when she did so. Obviously Harry was having a difficult time finding a way to break the news to his wife, but she didn't think the ginger would be so out of the loop after all this time. Harry really had told her nothing, and that concerned her. She couldn't divorce unless enough people petitioned in her favor, and without Ginny she couldn't even bring everyone to the Ministry to get things rolling. The brunette had been hoping things would be a little farther along by now than they were.

Sighing, she flipped the parchment over and scribbled a short note in response, knowing that Harry wanted to be the one to tell her most of it. She only told her friend to ask her husband, and hopefully that would be enough of a push to get things rolling. She just hoped Harry wouldn't start holding out on her- not now, not when she was finally growing brave enough to leave the bastard.

Hermione did know one thing though- she would not follow Ginny's requests. There was no way she would return back to that apartment to be beat upon, not after everything. And aside from that, she doubted Draco would allow her to. It sounded a bit possessive and controlling, but she knew it was true. He wouldn't want her to put herself in danger again.

Deciding that she was too distracted now to continue, she sent the short letter away and got up, cleaning up the area. Her progress was still very limited, but at least she was getting somewhere.

The hallway was darker now that the sun had set, and though the moon offered a sliver of light on that night she wished it were the day. She didn't know why, but those halls gave her chills when she walked through them in dim light. The Manor could be eerie when it wanted to be.

As she was walking back to her room, she noted that a set of footsteps were coming her way. Assuming it was Draco again, she didn't get too concerned, and actually welcomed the noise. She did enjoy to speak to him.

The figure that rounded the corner just ahead of her caused her to frown. No, she should've known this wouldn't be Draco- he had been sleeping for hours. It was Lucius instead that was walking toward her, a twisted grin on his face. She made sure her wand was in reach.

"Miss Granger," he said, walking towards her quickly. She noted that he had his cane with him tonight, and he was using it to walk- something she didn't ever recall him doing in the past. "We meet again. I expected you to leave by now."

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "I'm going on my way," she said, moving to step around him. The last thing she needed was a repeat performance of being saved by Draco. She could handle his crippled, angry father. He was not a threat anymore.

"Home?"

Hermione rolled her eyes as she continued walking. "To bed," she said as she passed him. Half a second later she found herself on the floor, her head swimming.

"Who's bed?" he asked from above, keeping his voice tight. She shook her head, trying to clear her vision. Did he really just attack her with his cane?

"Mine," she hissed, rolling over on her back to look up at him. Quickly aiming her wand, she spot a jet of purple light to propel him back, before she jumped to her feet, reaching out to the wall to help steady herself. "Now leave me alone! I am welcome here by your son, and we are both very aware that he doesn't appreciate having you bother me! So make it easy on the both of us Lucius and stay out of my way. I'm not doing anything to bother you, so leave me be. If you have a problem with my presence here, then I'm afraid you're screwed. He asked me to come here, and I am still in the process of completing something he asked me to do. So until my task is finished, you will see a lot of me." She turned quickly on her heel, hoping she didn't fall over in the process. "Stop acting like you can dictate whether or not I am here; you can't. Draco is the heir to your lifeline, and since he is of age now the Manor is his. I know this, because I know the way Pureblood lines work; I've done my research. So if you would kindly stay out of my way, I'll stay out of yours." She started walking, not once glancing back at him. She didn't hear him walking, and she supposed that was good. Maybe he would just stay in his part of this giant home from now on, and leave her in peace.

For some reason, she didn't completely believe that would happen.

Instead of hurrying to her room to sleep like she originally planned, she took a short detour. She didn't bother knocking on the blonde's bedroom door, just entered and stormed over to his bed. He was snoozing on the extravagant bedding, but in that moment she didn't care. She was too irritated to care. Grabbing the nearest pillow she could find, she threw it at his head. He jolted up in an instant, his wand in his hand, ready to fight whoever was there.

"I'm glad attacking pillows scare you so," she mocked. He sat up when he realized who it was and flicked his wand, lighting the candles around the room. He rubbed sleep from his eyes, trying to focus on her as he woke up.

"Everything puts me on edge," he snapped in return, ignoring her to glance at the clock. "Merlin's balls, what do you think you are doing? It's the middle of the night! Look, I don't know what your problem can possibly be so very late at night, but if you would kindly come back in the morning-"

"You're father attacked me in the hallway," she interrupted, cutting him off. His eyebrows shot up at that and his mouth clamped shut; he was obviously thinking deeply about what she said. Her hand moved to touch the back of her head as she spoke. "He hit me in the head with his cane-"

"Are you alright?" he interjected, throwing the covers back. Her eyes shot up when she noticed the silky pajama bottoms he wore- and ho very low they sat on his hips. He didn't seem to be thinking about that though as he stood and grabbed her head, surveying the spot she was touching. He pushed her hand away to run his hands through her hair, massaging the injured spot. Though it felt good, she couldn't help thinking how strange this was.

"You have a bump," he continued, pulling his hand out of her tresses, "Nothing bad, thank Circe, but it will undoubtedly bother you a bit. I can't do much more than give you a headache draught."

She shook her head, regretting the action a moment later. "No, it just blurred my vision a bit. It hurts, but it's nothing unbearable."

He looked slightly relieved at that, but it did nothing to relax the expression on his face. "I told you to be weary of him."

"And I was," she said, narrowing her eyes. "I tried to leave without saying very much, but then he hit me in the head. I got him away from me pretty quickly though, and then chewed him out for his constant bothering. I understand that he doesn't like having someone like me around, but really, must he be so physical about it? That will draw nothing but problems."

The blonde pursed his lips, sitting down on the bed again. His hands clasped together in front of him, and she watched him duck his head a bit. She frowned, unsure quite what he was doing.

"He's always been physical Hermione; that's nothing surprising. Do not get into another confrontation with him, alright? Go the other way or something, just try to not cross paths with him. He's a sinister man."

She frowned, thinking his words over. "What do you mean he's _always_ been physical?"

He scoffed, though it sounded a bit strained. "Perhaps always is an elongated word. He's been physical for a long time, how about that?"

She closed her eyes, thinking that over. Her mind crept back to a time when the tables between them turned, when her perception of him changed, and his of her changed as well. She thought back to when things didn't make sense, when his actions stopped being the same and his intentions became harder to read. A time of war.

"You stopped bruising me when we were children," she said, the pieces of a forgotten puzzle falling into place for her. "You said your perception of bruising had changed, that you wouldn't turn me purple anymore. In fourth year, you didn't have a problem doing that." She shook her head. "But when we were brought to your Manor during the war, you out rightly refused to hurt me, despite our unpleasant past." She pursed her lips. "You wouldn't hurt me anymore, because you finally understood how it felt. You wouldn't hurt me, because someone else was too busy hurting you."

His jaw tightened. "For being the brightest witch of our age, I thought you would pick up on that a long time ago."

She shook her head, obviously at a loss of words. "I never thought… I mean, Lucius is a wicked man, but I never thought he would… _beat_ his own son."

"Yes, and everyone thinks Weasely is too good of a man to abuse you," he pointed out, looking at her. "Why do you think I understand so well Hermione? There was a point in my life when I stopped caring if I lived or died, just so long as I understood why those things were happening to me. We were children; we didn't always understand why things happen the way they do. Even as adults, we can't always pinpoint what those reasons are." He reached over, grasping her hand. "There's more than one reason why I can't stand when Weasely beats on you, you know."

"Now I do," she whispered. Shaking her head, she looked up at him. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For not noticing before. Maybe if I had pointed it out sometime when we were children, when our paths kept crossing, you wouldn't have felt so awful about yourself."

The blonde just shrugged, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "You can't always change what is meant to be Hermione; sometimes the future has plans for you. But trust me, I'm going to change yours. You never have to go back to that life."

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**A/n:** I brought up a topic here that hasn't been discussed for a while. If you're wondering where in the story there is talk of Draco being abused, try chapter 10, it mentions it partially. Next chapter we are going to go back into the "past" and look into this topic of abuse as well! After all, this story isn't called "His **and** Her Bruises" for nothing! Got anything to say about this chapter? Let me know in a review!


	29. Retrospect: Lucius

**A/n**: Back to the past! Hope you enjoy the chapter. We'll be looking more into the abuse topic soon, but I felt that adding in this chapter would be important, for it looks faintly into the subject. This and chapter ten might be referred back to a lot when "present" Hermione and Draco start delving into his past. Enjoy! Thanks to my beta **loveinthemadness**! **Not yet edited. And as always, check me out on facebook! The link is up on my profile.

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He stumbled through the fireplace, perplexed at what was happening. After lustfully kissing Hermione on the top floor of the school, he had swiped her mind and hurried away; he didn't want to stay around and be asked questions. He did however make it obvious where he wand was as he hurried down the stairs, just to be sure that she could protect herself.

By the time he got outside, the gathering of people was standing around or mulling around, the bodies of the fallen littering the ground. He could see Potter off in the distance speaking to the Weasel, and in the background behind them small dots making their way up the hill, apparating away. He assumed those few were the people from his side, the ones that were going to attempt to avoid jail.

Potter's eyes met his then, and Draco inclined his head. A part of him didn't want to run, for he knew that it would only make his hearing worse. A part of him just didn't care to try to get away. He saw the raven-haired boy approaching him in the distance, and didn't move to hurry away. He may not like the boy-wonder, but he wouldn't run now. He wasn't connected to the Death Eater's now, not if the war was over. He could choose his own life.

He was about to step forward towards the boy when a cry startled him. Spinning to the side he saw his parents rushing towards him, a mad look in their eyes. Draco's eyes widened half a moment before his father's hand wrapped around his wrist, and the world blurred. Apparently he would apparate away from the battlefield and resist arrest as well, since his father gave him no choice in the matter.

They arrived at Malfoy Manor, something that wasn't completely unexpected. Draco huffed as he took in the atmosphere, the dark tone of their home more tantalizing than ever. Stepping away from the two people who brought him into this world, the blonde could see the complete difference in their expressions; Narcissa almost looked relieved that things were over, that she could now have her home back, since no one but Malfoy blood could apparate in and every last Death Eater was forced to march on Hogwarts. She looked lighter than she had in years.

Lucius on the other hand looked nothing like his wife. He seemed horrified at the situation, looking around the space with large angry eyes. His son was more drawn to the angry expression on that man's face than the relieved expression on his mothers. He knew that expression, and he knew what followed. His jaw twitched, wondering how Lucius could always continue on in the same manner without regret. It made his nerves sit on edge.

"Draco, come," he said, his voice depicting that he expected complete obedience from his offspring. The blonde hesitated moving at first, for the man had almost murdered him on the battlefield- he, his own son- just a few hours ago. Now he expected him to willfully follow? He opened his mouth to say no, to stand against him, until his eyes slid over to his mother.

She looked concerned now. He knew what her expression meant, and he knew from past experience that she did not approve of some of his father's teaching methods. He recalled a time when she dared to stand between the two of them; a time that set his nerves on edge, for she had been in the middle, and he couldn't stand her there. Initially, he knew that she liked to intervene when she felt she could, for she was his parent, and a part of her seemed propelled to attempt to protect him. But Narcissa had never been a strong woman physically; she was not raised to be one. And he could see from the look in her eyes that she was ready to step in any moment. If they remained, she would.

"Yes, father," he said obediently, glad the man's back was now to him. His mother's eyes widened a hair, and he knew the gears in her mind were turning as he hurried past her. He didn't care just then if he was crushing her spirit a bit; he wanted her protected and away from the scene. He spent enough time in his younger years watching her receive the same treatment for failing as well.

Lucius led them down an old hallway towards the room that once was his study. Since the war began, everything had changed except that. The room was still very much his, rarely touched by anyone, even the blonde man himself. Voldemort did not see the need for studies, therefore Lucius did not visit his own. The charred and destroyed designs adoring the ancient walls would never be the same now that the violence of war had gotten to them, and for the first time in ages Draco actually looked around and took in the condition of his home. It was so different from a few years ago.

Perhaps the only blessing of going to a room alone with his father was that this room would be mostly untarnished. And Lucius knew it too.

"Sit," his father demanded when they entered the room. Disobediently, he remained standing on the opposite side of the chair his father stood behind. A blonde eyebrow rose up. "Are you listening?"

"Yes," he said, eyeing his father suspiciously. "I just think that I would have a better chance to defend myself if I remain where I am now. I have more room to move around that way."

His eyes narrowed. "Draco, don't be absurd. Sit."

"I'll stay where I am," his son said again, crossing his arms.

The elder Malfoy's jaw twitched, but he seemed to let the topic go, at least for a moment. "Very well," he began, moving his arms behind his back as he began to pace. "Where did you disappear to during the battle? I saw you for a while, and then you were gone. For a while, I assumed you were dead."

"Don't sound so troubled by the thought," he muttered. "I was merely avoiding places I didn't care to be."

"A cowards way of surviving," his father scolded. "We are Malfoy men-"

"Yes, and a fat lot of good that's done us," he snapped, cutting his father off. "It doesn't mean anything anymore father, not really. Face it, we chose the wrong side. If we were ever proud, that respect and fear fellow wizards had for us is gone. The Dark Lord made a mockery out of us, using us as slaves in our own home, laughing at our failures. I don't know why you bother lecturing this point to me if it no longer has any meaning."

Lucius had grown closer in his pacing, and though the blonde expected it he didn't prepare himself well enough for the neck breaking slap that sent him into the floor. The man was old, but that didn't make him weak.

"Get up boy," his father growled, reaching to grasp the blonde's forearm, "Get up! We will not fall any further."

Draco huffed. "And you think hitting me is going to help that point?" Jerking from his grip, the young man stood up by himself, brushing off his clothes in the process. "We're all going to be fucked father the moment that Auror's start arresting people who fought for Voldemort-"

"Don't use his name-" his father warned, but his boy was paying no mind to him now.

"-and we will be at the top of the list. We housed the whole group of Death Eater's in our home for Circe's sake. And although we could hide like cowards here in our home, it will do no good to resist arrest. We are all already probably looking at a great deal of time in Azkaban for this."

"Don't say that boy! We just have to be smart about this." From the corner of his eye, Draco noticed that Lucius' wand had moved into his hand now, and though the man's grip was realized his son knew better than to let his guard down because of that. "We have to think our way out of this."

"There is no way out," he snapped, aggravated now. He didn't want to fathom the idea of visiting that hellhole of a prison, but the odds were that he would be forced to in the future. "We played our cards, and we played them wrong."

His father's wand came up, and for the first time in he could remember, Draco reached back to grab his from his belt as well. "Perhaps, but now we are going to play them right. I won't be forced into that prison."

"So you're going to try and avoid that place forever?"

"It's not hard to bribe people," his father replied. "Now with the war costs debting the nation and I'm sure the Minister wouldn't oppose the idea of having a few thousand additional galleons to spend."

Draco huffed. "If he would even bother speaking to you."

The blast from his father's wand caught him off guard, and before the young man could move to protect himself, he found his body being thrown back into the wall behind him, the air getting knocked from his chest. His wand slipped from his grip as he fell, and he caught himself on his hands and knees gasping for air. He moved quickly to pick up his wand, but Lucius was already using a spell to bring it back into his own hand. Draco watched through hooded eyes, his fringe blocking out part of his vision.

"Never speak to me that way son," his father said, slipping his wand into his pocket. "I thought I raised you better than that."

"And I thought you were raising me right!" he spat, spitting at the ground. It came out red, and he realized he had bit his tongue pretty hard. "I guess everyone is disappointed."

Lucius' eyes narrowed. "I thought years of discipline would teach you to not speak back so much. I obviously haven't been as hard on you as I should be, as my father on me."

The teenager grinned madly into the ground. Lucius had been using physical violence to instill the livelihood he wanted in his son for years, something the blonde was more than a bit familiar with. But the difference between several months ago and that point in time was that he had seen true war, and he had lost real friends. He didn't intend to break under his father's methods of parenting again. He let him tell him who he should befriend in school, what kind of attitude to put forth to be feared and respected in Slytherin house. And he had done everything his father told him to do. It got him the life he was expected to live and maintain, but not necessarily the life he wanted for himself.

Glancing up from the ground again, he met his father's gaze. The man looked smug, thinking perhaps that his son was ready to break again and do anything he asked. Draco had always done what his father asked, once he learned that disobedience came at a price.

But he was seventeen now, the year he was considered legal. In all rights, he was an adult now, and he could make his own decisions. And even in just the past few hours, he had made many.

He didn't intend to let his father have at him again.

Closing his eyes briefly, he focused his entire mind on one soul task, one miniscule thing that he had learned only a few days prior, something he hoped he could achieve.

_Accio. _

His wand flew into his upturned palm, and he gripped it firmly. Grey eyes flew open and he peered up into the same set of orbs; they both looked startled that he had been able to do that, and with a grin pulling at his lips the blonde got to his feet.

"Maybe you're right; maybe you weren't hard enough," the blonde mocked, crossing his arms. "But I'm not going to let you beat on me father, not this time. It was hard enough sixth year to hide the tattoo on my forearm, let alone all the little additional marks. I'm not going to try to hide anything you leave on my anymore."

"You're going to defy me?"

Draco shrugged, twirling his wand in his hand now. "I would never defy you father," he said, an old sentence his father used to tell him dancing around in his head. "I only seek to make you better. Stupefy!"

Lucius was caught off guard by the entire situation, and didn't even react to shield himself. Draco was more than bit surprised by that. His father spent his entire life telling him to always be on guard, to always be ready to attack and to fight for the right cause- and back then that meant his cause. But things were changing, and the blonde didn't feel propelled to follow his father's footsteps anymore.

He sighed, glancing down at the man as he headed for the door. It took him far too long to stand up to him, and even now he felt uncertain about his actions. Hurrying from the room, he shut the door and leaned against it.

He could defy his father, and that was something he felt pride in. The man had been overbearing for years, and he finally found a way to one-up him. He didn't have to bow to his wishes.

As he hurried back to find his mother and explain to her what he was thinking, he felt a bit better. It felt good to defy the wicked man.

He just had no idea that in a few short years, he would be defying his father on behalf of the same girl he dared to kiss on the top floor of Hogwarts; the girl that sometimes slipped into his dreams.


	30. Aftermath: Stowaway

**A/n:** Here's another update! I know it's late, so I apologize! Check out my other stories "Red Angels" and "Secrets After Death" if you're interested! Thanks to my beta **loveinthemadness**! Not yet edited.

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The following day Hermione awoke with the intention of testing the potion. Late the night before she set out a smidge of the mixture with some other potion ingredients ladled into the concoction, hoping that she would see some positive results in the morning. She had just begun looking things over when the floo in the potion lab roared to life.

It was more than a bit of a surprise. She had nearly forgotten there was one in there at all. She paused in her actions, watching the gooey liquid leak out on the floor as she stood still. The woman half expected someone to step out, and after avoiding a certain man for so long she had a slight tremor of fear vibrating up her back as she speculated over who it might be.

Her concern proved to be useless a moment later. A voice caught her attention instead of the footsteps of a visitor. "Hermione?"

She sighed in relief, irritated at herself that she had let herself get so worked up over nothing. Steadying herself before she dared to move, the woman made her way over to the floo where the face of Harry lay in the ashes. She couldn't tell through the image what he was thinking.

"Hello Harry."

"Oh good, I'm glad I found you," he continued, seeming to frown as he spoke. "You have no idea how difficult it was to break through Malfoy's bloody wards to be able to speak to you right now. I thought about sending you a letter, but it just didn't seem right."

"What are you going on about?"

The head of flames sighed. "It's… Ginny. I know that she owled you yesterday about where you have been, and I'm very sorry about that, but the fact of the matter remains that I've been looking for the best possible time to tell her about Ron. As it turns out, there is none."

Hermione scoffed. "Did you ever think there would be an appropriate time to tell her that her brother's a controlling abuser?"

"No, not really," he replied, his eyes glancing down. She sighed at this.

"So why has this resulted in you flooing me?"

"Well you see, that's the funny part. I know I would handle everything, but now anytime I even try to bring the topic of you and Ron up she shuts me out and refuses to speak about the matter until you return. It's a bit difficult to get anything done that way."

She felt her chest slowly filling with dread. "You want me to come over so you can explain things, don't you?"

"Essentially," he replied sheepishly, "I was hoping so. Look Hermione, if it makes you too uncomfortable than don't bother. Ron comes over occasionally as it is, so I doubt you want to chance another encounter with him. Besides, if the story hasn't been completely explained and proven she might jump to conclusions and side with him before we even have a chance to get everything out. Maybe flooing you was a silly idea."

"No," she said quickly, her eyebrows drawing together. "It's not exactly stupid. It's just… a bit risky."

"A bit?" She nodded. "Hermione, I would never let him hurt you, especially not in my own home. If he does appear for some reason, you're completely safe with me."

_Sounds like what Draco keeps saying. _A part of her wondered if Harry would really be able to protect her after everything; Ron was manipulative after all, and she knew from firsthand experience that he didn't mind throwing a punch if it suited his needs. She didn't believe for a moment that a full-blown fight at the Potter's would amount to anything helpful. The last thing she needed was to have Ginny on her bad side, especially if she wanted the girl to testify in her favor for a divorce.

Then again, Harry would possibly protect her more than even Draco would. She might be capable of handling Ron if she would just swallow her panic and focus, but that didn't mean that the men in her life would sit back and watch things happen. And Harry had been her best friend since she was eleven, not the sneering schoolboy who taunted her in the hallways. Her relationship towards Harry was stronger than with Draco simply because of time.

"I know," she said at length, giving him the best smile she could. "I really do. I will come over Harry, so I can help you. It might be better if I'm there anyway."

The raven-haired boy looked unsure. "Hermione-"

"No, I've made up my mind. I will be over soon; you can attempt to begin talking to her if you so desire. I must go let Draco know that I'll be out for a bit though."

"What? Hermione, are you-"

But she didn't want to listen to him, for she didn't want to be talked out of her decision. She cut the connection quickly, turning around to sigh. Maybe if she had continued to look at the figure only a few minutes longer, she could've seen the uncertainty written across her friends face at the use of Draco's first name.

* * *

To say that getting Ginny to understand was difficult would be an understatement. The girl fumed throughout the majority of Harry's explanation, right down until the truth came out. It was only when Harry pulled up the memories of the scars, and Hermione showed her the visions of Ron abusing her that she went mute.

And it was quiet for quite a long time. It was as though the girl was in shock, and she sat there stiffly as the pair stood around her, glancing at each other every now and then. They weren't exactly sure what to do now that the story was through, and since Ginny refused to utter a word it was very unclear as to how she was feeling. Deciding that the girl may not want to be in her presence for the moment, Hermione backed away.

"No, don't go," the ginger said quietly, stopping the brunette in her tracks. "You don't need to."

"I was just going to give you some space," she responded meekly.

Ginny slowly shook her head. "I don't need it." Standing, she smoothed her hair back, her eyes remaining on the ground for a long time. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"I didn't want to alarm you," the girl replied slowly, eyeing Harry. "It hasn't always been this way. For a long while, things were just rocky. But lately everything's gotten so out of hand. After he started hitting me, started trying to _rape_ me, I couldn't handle it. That's why I'm not staying with him anymore Ginny; I found somewhere safer to stay for the time being. He can't get there."

"Where are you staying?" her friend asked, though it was clear she was still in shock. "The newspapers have been frantically looking for you to get the details on things, and Merlin knows the only reason Ron has been unable to get a search warrant out to get an investigation on your whereabouts started is because Harry went in and told them that he knew where you were and that you were alright." She glanced at her husband, glaring. "He wouldn't even tell me."

"That's something that's not for me to reveal," he pointed out. Ginny only huffed.

"So where are you staying?"

Hermione bit her lip. "I think you've had enough dramatic news for one day. Why don't we-"

"I want to know," she interrupted, looking between her best friend and her husband, "It can't be that bad. I want to know."

Harry opened his mouth to say something, but was almost instantly cut off as the floo suddenly roared to life. Inwardly, the brunette's nerves immediately jumped on edge. She hoped that the Weasely's were expecting a visitor that day, and this wasn't who she thought it was.

_I just have horrible luck, don't I?_

He was dusting his clothes off, obviously not paying a bit of attention to who was in the room as he began speaking. "Harry! I wanna talk to youh." It was apparent from his ill-pronounced words that the blasted man had been drinking like normal, and Hermione could only screw up her face in disgust at that realization. Didn't he have Lavender around now or something? Couldn't he find something- or someone- else to do in his time besides destroy his insides with liquor? The longer she was away from that apartment, the more her feelings wavered towards Ron.

Was she actually insinuating that she didn't mind if he slept with the whore? Was she so far removed from the relationship with him at that point that she just didn't care if he chased around anyone who would open their legs? It was sad to think that this pitiful man had been her husband, and now she was so detached from him that it didn't faze her to consider that he slept with plenty of other women in her absence. What was wrong with her?

Maybe she had never been as in love with Ron as she liked to think. Maybe it was all a make-believe lie.

But lie or not, that didn't help with the growing agitation in her stomach. Despite having Harry- and hopefully Ginny- on her side in that moment, she still felt uncomfortable having him so near her.

"Harry?" he said again, when the raven-haired boy didn't respond. Stumbling from the fireplace, he grabbed his head as he peered up at the three occupants. "Hermione!"

"Ron," she said uncertainly, touching her wand for reassurance inside her pocket.

The man glance around, as though searching for something. "No Malfoy? Have you finally left him?"

"I would have to be with him in order to leave him," she snapped hotly, noticing the obvious confusion laced in the Weasely's eyes out of the corner of her own.

"But you've come back for me now," he said, grinning. It wasn't in the form of a question, but instead stated like a fact, as though she _had_ to return to him. "Some of your things, they are still at home. The little things you left behind. I knew you would return to get them."

She frowned. Did he think she was returning for him, or for her things? She suspected that the alcohol was messing with the logical part of his brain and decided to simply ignore his chattering. "Neither. I came to Harry's in order to speak with your sister."

His expression darkened. "Everything she says is a lie. Hermione just wants to make everyone turn against me when I've done nothing wrong!"

"You don't even know what she told us," Harry pointed out coolly, keeping himself calm in order to handle the situation well. With Ginny still trying to process everything she had just learned, he doubted she would be of much assistance with removing her brother from Hermione's presence. Or better yet; he should just let her floo back to Malfoy Manor and leave Ron to be screamed at by Ginny.

He was sure she wouldn't side with this twat after all. He didn't deserve much pity after all his mistakes. Harry didn't think there was anything he could do to make up for the hellish life he forced Hermione to be a part of.

"I doubt she would come here without a meaningful purpose!" he seethed, turning his attention back to his wife. "Otherwise she would still be hiding like a coward behind Malfoy Manor's wards, whoring herself out to Malfoy himself."

"That's enough!" Ginny snapped, crossing her arms as she listened to him rant. "I know what's really been going on Ron, and I certainly know Hermione is not at fault here! You have no right to call her a whore when apparently you keep Lavender Brown on the side of everything!"

His eyes widened a fraction. "She told you about that?"

"Yes," his sister bristled, her eyes growing darker. "How dare you act this way! Mum raised you better than this- both our parents did! This is not how you handle a marriage!"

He pointed an accusing finger at his wife. "She's no better. She was cheating; I know it! You should've seen what I caught her in-"

"I'm aware of what you caught her wearing one day," Ginny snapped, flinching at the foul memory Hermione had presented to them. "And no matter what she wears, no matter what she does, that doesn't mean you should go about hitting her! No one is going to take that lightly."

Ron's composure faltered a bit. "I said I was sorry."

"Sorry doesn't excuse the act, nor does it count for shit when immediately after you've apologized you go about beating on her again! I'm not sure why she chose to go to Malfoy's house, or why he is alright with her staying there, but I'm sure it all stems from your own actions! You want someone to blame for your wife trying to file a divorce?" Ginny huffed, disgusted. "Blame yourself."

His eyes moved back to Hermione. "You forgive me, right?"

Her nose scrunched up a bit, and she glanced at her two friends again. "Do you really think I forgive you Ron, after everything?"

The ginger pointed a finger again. "You should! I worked hard for you!"

"And then you stopped giving a fuck about anything!" She closed her eyes, taking a breath. She knew she had to confront him, she had to deal with him in some way. But she needed to speak to Harry and Ginny as well, and with him hanging around she wouldn't get any further than that. No, in all honesty she no longer wanted to be there. She wanted to return to the blasted Manor and snuggle into her luxurious bed, perhaps speaking to the blonde male that lived there as well. Her conversation with him at this point might work better than salvaging one between her friends- at least for now.

She turned to Harry. "I need to go- now. Owl me later when things are calmer."

He looked disappointed that she was leaving so soon, but nodded his agreement. He could understand why she was not overjoyed about being there with Ron, and wouldn't fight to keep her there just then. Perhaps if they had thought about it, they could've warded the fireplace until she left, but it was too late now.

Hermione didn't even glance at her husband as she walked to the floo, barely listening to what Harry was instructing him to do. From the corner of her eye she saw him backing away from thee floo, and her nerves settled down. At least she could get away to some peace and quiet for a bit after this uncalled for meeting.

She was disappearing through the network when it happened. Ron's old plan worked this time, and as she was leaving Harry's home she heard her friend scream out _Stupefy_ and looked to see what was happening. The body that fell beside hers was lifted away alongside her.

She had a stowaway, and she couldn't be more displeased about who it was.

It took only seconds to arrive through the fireplace in her room, and she toppled over the fallen body of her husband. For a few scarce seconds she thought he had been hit by the spell, and she breathed a sigh of relief as she looked on at his still form.

That single moment of peace was interrupted as he jumped up from his statue like form and landed on her, pinning her into the floor beside the bed. She managed to hit him hard in the nose before he managed to pin his arms. Ron looked down at her, smiling maliciously.

"I finally have you back." He leaned in to kiss her, but she turned her head to the side.

"You're never getting me back Ron. Why can't you accept that?"

* * *

**A/n: **There's a reason why Ron returned, I promise! What do you think is going to happen? Will Hermione save herself, with Ron have his way with her, or is Draco going to appear? I actually half-ed this chapter because it was too long, so let me know what you best guess is! Leave a review :D


	31. Aftermath: Bloody

**A/n**: I feel I should explain something lovely readers. When I say that this chapter was "long" I meant the original version of chapter 30 was about 4,000 words, and with my stories these days I try to keep the chapter lengths as uniform as possible (2,000 to 3,000). Therefore I cut the chapter in half. It was only long in accordance to the length of this particular story. Hope you enjoy and you can always look me up on facebook! The links on my profile. As usual, thanks to my beta **loveinthemadness**! *Not yet edited.

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He frowned slightly down at her, seeming off-put by the conviction in her voice that he couldn't have her. "You've just forgotten why we love each other," he reasoned, not moving to get up off of her. "I'll remind you."

"Are you insane?" She asked, moving against his hands when his fingers moved to the buttons on her blouse. "You think this will make me love you again? No one- not even Lavender- would fall in love with you just because you force yourself on them!" She wished her hands weren't bound so she could slap him. "This isn't how you win over anyone!"

Ron frowned again. "Well, you didn't seem to like me when I was nicer, so I'm trying a different method. I can never please you Hermione!" He reached up as though to slap her, and in doing so released his tight grip on her wrists. She saw an opening and jolted, breaking his hold on one of her arms. She shoved his offending arm away, ducking again when he moved to strike her.

"Stop it Ron!"

"Make me," he threatened, though his voice came out low. He attempted to grab her arm again, but she twisted beneath him and managed to knock the boy sideways a bit. His arms quickly moved to hold her tightly, and she fought against his grip.

"Stop it Ron! This isn't helping anything; you need to let me go!" Her arms moved to try and slither beneath his, searching for her wand to aid her. Malfoy didn't seem to be close enough to hear the ruckus they were making, so it appeared that she would need to solve this problem herself.

"You don't know what you're talking about Hermione," he spat, his hands finding and undoing the buttons he had been eyeing. "You might be scared, but I need you. I miss you at home."

She huffed, continuing on her in the conversation to hopefully distract him as she weaved around the inside of her jacket for her wand, slowly and carefully. "You can't miss me too much," she spat, "Not with Lavender always being around." She found her face to be slammed in the carpet seconds later. She twisted beneath his tight grip, seeking out later. She could feel the blood running out her nose.

Ironic really, since she had the distant sense that she had broken his as well. Rivers of blood had been spilling out of his nostrils for the duration of their battle. She thought it might be broken, and held back a scream in her throat. She couldn't let it get into his mind that he was having an impact on her; that he was hurting her. She wasn't sure where that would lead.

"Don't talk bad about Lavender," he hissed, "You don't even know her."

"I don't need to," she sputtered, spitting away the blood that fell in her mouth. "But I wouldn't say she deserves you. I don't think anyone deserves to have a monster like you around!"

That seemed to do it, and he flipped them around so he lay on top of her, her unbuttoned shirt fanning out to the sides as her stomach was pressed to the ground, her arse facing up. She ground her teeth together, fighting off the slow panic building in her chest. She just needed to shit beneath his weight a hair, and she could grab her wand. And then he would pay for continuing to abuse her like this.

"You don't know when to watch your tongue anymore, do you?" he spat, grasping her hair. She let him lift her head up, his hefty weight crushing her arms as her fingertips danced over the handle.

And then he used his grip on her hair to start thrusting her head back into the ground.

"I provided for you!" he spat, continuing his onslaught. "I looked out for you in the war, and I look out for you now! I got us our house; I got us all the things we have! I was good to you, and I never held you back. And you're betraying me by staying at Malfoy's! Could you think of a better way to backstab me Hermione? Hmm?"

She sputtered as he pulled her head back for a fifth time, her lips bleeding as well from biting her lips as he threw her face into the ground of her room. She chocked, closing her eyes against the obvious pain. But he pulled her head back further this time, lifting both their chests a bit off the floor in the process, and though it tore out her silky locks from her scalp in loose strands as he prepared to beat her to the ground again, her delicate fingers finally got ahold of her wand.

Hermione jutted it out past her side, whispering a spell under her breath as he threw her face back into the floor. It hurt, but around the ringing in her head she heard the ginger crash into something behind her, the extra weight disappearing from her body. She coughed, staggering to try and stand on uncertain legs. Her hands found the dressing table she never used, and without caring what fell she pulled herself up, steading herself to hopefully keep from falling over. Behind her, she could hear him cursing.

"You think that was a good idea?" he spat, and she rubbed a hand across her face. It came back bloody, and though she couldn't see too well she took a chance and turned around, facing off her husband through half open eyelids.

"Do you really think I'm just going to lie down and let you hit me?" she shot back, watching him draw his wand. "You can't treat people like this Ron, and I don't know why you think this is alright. I don't know when… when your mind changed towards abuse, but this isn't the same man I fell in love with. You've changed too much."

"I haven't changed at all!" He lifted his wand. "You have!"

"Have I Ron?" she asked wearily, batting her eyes for a moment to try and clear her vision. She saw him move to get closer to her, and panic took over again. "Stupefy!" Maybe this time, it would hold.

She didn't move for many seconds after he hit the floor, she just stood there and waited to see if he would jump up like before. But she saw the spell hit him, and knew that he had to be under its influence. Using her own wand to avoid getting closer, she brought his wand to her. Pressing herself firmly to the wall for balance, she inched along it until she felt the door handle pressing to her back, and turned it to rush out.

The brunette made it down the hall to where she knew Draco's room was, and threw the door open without invitation. Calling out his name, she waited for a reply that never came. He wasn't there.

She leaned against the wall, pressing her wand to her temple to try out a spell that might help with the dizziness. It did little. She couldn't just stand there and wait for him to return, not when she had an unmoving Ron in her room and blood leaking down her face and neck. If she passed out and he returned to find her like this, it would lead to nothing good.

_He's probably over… over in the lab._

Blinking, she sank slowly down the wall, closing her eyes. She doubted she would actually make it to the lab several halls down without hitting something, and though the noise might draw someone's attention she didn't want to have to deal with a wandering Lucius, just in case he was around. But she needed to get Draco, now.

Something clicked in her head, and she prayed to Merlin that she would get a response. "Grink?"

The elf apparated in front of her, the creature she had not seen since sixth year. If her memory wasn't so keen, she likely wouldn't have recalled the elf's name at all. The creature's eyes widened at the way she looked.

"Oh Misses Hermione! What happened?"

Inwardly, she frowned, wondering if Draco had perhaps mentioned her to the elves at some point. "Please, get Draco," she begged, wishing it didn't sound so pathetic. But her bravery wasn't as strong as she liked to think, and the idea of handling the situation alone seemed absolutely terrifying just then. "Please bring him… here?" Her headache was progressively getting worse.

"Yes! Yes of course Misses!" The creature bowed once, before giving her a worried look and apparated away. She vaguely toyed with the idea of healing her own head wounds, but decided against it. Things could go wrong very quickly.

After what seemed like hours the blode rounded the corner, a very concerned expression lingering on his face. She was fading in and out of consciousness, the pounding in her head seeming unbearable. He had to shake her to get her attention.

"Fuck Hermione," he whispered, barely taking her in before she was picked up off the ground, her wand hitting the floor to be retrieved later. She was on a bed before he said another word, and the whole process seemed to be happening very quickly. "What happened?"

She muttered something, but even to her ears it sounded jumbled and useless. She swallowed twice as pain pinched at her face, the cuts healing themselves up as a wand tapped her skin. She couldn't see Draco, but just from the atmosphere of the room she could tel he was tense.

He didn't move away from her until everything was healed, and then he begged her to open her eyes. She looked up at him, her headache pounding harder and harder. "What the hell happened?" he asked, concern etched into his features. "Did you go see Weasely again!?"

She shook her head, her eyes scrunching together as his voice grew louder. He seemed to notice her reaction, and softened his features almost instantly. "I don't need to know much Hermione, really. I just need to know if Weasely did this."

Hermione bit her tongue, but quickly regretted the action. Her mouth still tasted of copper, the taste one got whenever they tasted blood. She nodded her head, though it didn't help with her headache, and watched his eyes grow dark. He turned away from her.

"Where is he? I'll kill him." The tension in his voice wasn't there as she had expected it to be, and the dead, dreary tone of his voice worried her. He sounded quite angry indeed.

It took an awful lot of courage on her part to say what she did next. She spent a lot of time protecting Ron, but in that moment she didn't think she much cared what happened anymore. Closing her eyes, she spoke, "He's in my room."

Draco didn't respond when he stormed from the room, and she didn't make him. Closing her eyes again, she fought back any sort of emotion she was feeling. She couldn't regret letting the blonde know where Ron was, not now. He was getting away with too much, and she felt that maybe it was time someone stopped him.

She just hoped Draco didn't end him.

* * *

"You're a piece of shit Weasely," the blonde snapped, kicking the ginger in the side again. Hermione's simple little charm had been lifted, and if Draco felt bad about the grunts Ron emitted from the kick to his ribs he didn't let on.

Not that Draco really cared.

Malfoy grabbed the ginger by the hair, having very little pity for the man's scalp after he noted the various strands of Hermione's hair hanging around the floor. For a moment it concerned him about her head bleeding from wherever the hair had been torn from, but he shushed the thought. He had to deal with this man first.

He shoved him against the wall, wand digging into the jugular of his throat. "I should just kill you," he spat, watching how the man twitched as he pushed harder on this throat. "I haven't really done anything to you in comparison to everything you do to her. I don't like to consider the amount of times I've seen her bloodied from your hands, and we both know it's more than it may seem. I may have been heartless at one point in time Weasel, but I was still observant. You've never been very nice to her."

"Nicer than you," he spat, his words coming out unevenly due to the wand. Malfoy cocked an eyebrow at that, ready to challenge Weasely's statement.

"I have never beaten her Weasely. I never turned her face read. I've never attempted to strip her, to rape her, or anything else of the sort. I've never abused her." He leveled his gaze with the slightly shorter man. "Maybe that's why I won't kill you."

He dropped the man, stepping away to twirl his wand. As Weasely caught his breath and moved to stand, Draco took it as the opportune moment to punch him hard in the face, smirking lightly to himself as the ginger staggered back again.

"It won't do me any good to kill you; Hermione won't hear of it. You might be the biggest arse to her of all time, but she's still a little too caring for people. She wouldn't want you dead, and I very well know that. But mark my words Weasel, since I can't kill you, you better expect that I'm going to make your life shitty."

Weasely spat on the floor, leaving a slight pool of blood created from Draco's punch. It wasn't as though the blonde hadn't already taken advantage of the situation and had beat him or anything- there would be bruises on his body for days after this. Never in his life did Ron think he would see Draco so angry about someone hurting Hermione.

Only he was wrong; Ron didn't hurt Hermione. He was only teaching her to be the best woman possible for him. But the blonde wouldn't listen to that, not when he was having too much fun beating him up and throwing words at him, some of which he missed whenever it felt like his head was going to explode.

"That is if you don't spend some time in Azkaban for spouse abuse," he added, tapping his chin. "I suppose you'd never get to see me make your wife happier than you ever can."

Finally, he had Ron's undivided attention as he spun his body around, glaring back up at Draco.

"Don't look so angry Weasel," he continued, brushing past the ginger over to the floo. "It won't be too hard. All I ever have to do is love her, be kind to her, and quite possibly _not_ abuse the living shit out of her. I just don't have to be _you_, and that should be easy to do." He could see the fire in Ron's eyes, and smirked at that.

Ron lunged, moving to grab Draco around the throat despite his spinning head and bleeding, bruised body. It wasn't as though the blonde was being kind today, and if his actions couldn't define how angry he was, then Ron should just count his blessings that he wasn't dead. But there was quite a bit of space between the two men, and considering that Ron's wand was nowhere to be found he didn't feel threatened one bit. In fact, he appeared to be scooping up some floo powder as he watched the ginger approach.

One he was close enough to hit, Draco did just that, finding the ginger was finally able to hit him as well, and took a step back from the impact to the side of his face. His punch however hit Ron square in the face, and he seemed to be having a slightly harder time composing himself. Draco took the opportunity to shove him backward into the stone fireplace, aiming his wand at the man even as he fell.

"I don't suppose we have anything else to say then," Draco spat, the powder still hiding in his hand. "I don't expect you'll see her again Weasely, not until the court date- which you can guarantee will be processed. I suggest you don't do anything else remotely dangerous; you're looking at some time behind bars for beating your wife." He tossed the powder into the floo, looking away. "Stay away from her, or next time I _will_ kill you. Weasely's apartment."

He heard the floo roar to life, and stomped to the door. He could care less if that was an invalid address, but so long as the floo took the arse somewhere it didn't matter. Draco just wanted him far away from his home, and Hermione.

Speaking of, he was very worried about her. Hurrying from the room, he went back to check on her again. He had no idea how badly Weasely's newest attack would affect her after all.


	32. Aftermath: Remember

**A/n**: Thanks to my beta **loveinthemadness**! **Not yet edited. And as always, check me out on facebook! The link is up on my profile.

* * *

She was asleep when he returned. For a long time he left her there on his bed, letting the woman lie peacefully for a bit. A quick diagnostic spell proved that nothing was majorly wrong with her aside from the damage to her face that he had already mended. She seemed to come away from the assault relatively alright, at least physically. He worried she would regress again after being handled in the same manner by her husband.

At some point, he crawled in and fell asleep beside her on the bed, his irritation slowly evaporating into exhaustion. Beating the Weasel wasn't necessarily draining, but the situation as a whole was. Hopefully the woman wouldn't be horribly terrified when she woke to find him there. The last thing he needed was to have her afraid of him.

He slept dreamlessly. Only the soft lines being drawn on his face awoke him some hours later, and drearily he rolled on his side to face the woman he was so concerned about.

Hermione looked quite tired from the entire experience.

"Hi," she said hesitantly, looking at him closely. He couldn't tell if her expression was one of uncertainty or if she was simply uncomfortable, and in an effort to not alarm her he sat up and scooted away to the opposite side of the bed.

"Hello Hermione," he replied, looking her over quickly. The stray candles he had lit before passing out still sat around the room, having burned out in several places. No light fell through the cracks in the curtains, and that was his only sign that it was still night. "How do you feel?"

"Fine," she replied, nodding once. The longer he looked at her eyes, the more he could gauge about her feelings. Now he didn't think she looked terrified really, just surprised at the predicament. He couldn't blame her. "Where is Ron?"

At the mention of the ginger, Draco's expression soured. "I sent him away; he's not allowed here as it is. And after what he did to you… it couldn't stand Hermione. I dealt with him, and now he is far away from here. He's no longer in your rooms."

She raised an eyebrow at him, still remaining laying down. "What do you mean it couldn't stand?"

He scoffed. "He turned you red. Do you honestly think that I would just sit back and shove him lightly through the floo after his repeat offenses? This isn't the first time you have arrived here in a bad condition Hermione, and this is the last straw. He trespassed on my property. He beat you, and he had the audacity to continue arguing that he is in the right. It was time someone put him in his place."

For a moment she was quiet, and he wondered what could possibly be going through her mind. When she turned away and pushed the covers back as though to stand, he grabbed her arms and pulled her gently back into the bed.

"You need to eat first," he said simply when her head whipped around. "Your strength must be low after yesterday. Don't be so headstrong for the moment Hermione; just relax."

If she had anything to say to that, she didn't let on. Gently shrugging his hands off, she flopped back on the covers and buried her head into the pillows, emitting a sigh. He left her that way to go to the bathroom, deciding that she needed a few minutes alone. Her mindset still appeared unclear.

After ordering his house elf to bring them something to eat, he took a rushed shower and returned to the bedroom to find the brunette again asleep in his bed. It really was a strange spectacle to behold, but he wasn't arguing with the scene. Strangely enough, he liked the picture before him. Something seemed very right about having that woman in his bed. But he wouldn't go so far as to tell her that, not now.

He was halfway through his breakfast when she awoke to find him fully clothed, sitting in almost the same spot as before. Her hair was messier than twenty minutes prior, but he was thankful to note that she didn't cry in her sleep. Perhaps she didn't have any lingering nightmares about the experience.

"Hello again," he said, biting into a piece of fruit. "I was wondering how long you would be out."

Hermione sat up, brushing the sleep from her eyes. It was a moment before she looked up, meeting his gaze. "You look comfortable."

"I am. Eat something; you look ravished. Afterwards, we can start discussing things."

She frowned, her hand lingering over a piece of toast. "What do we need to discuss?"

He looked at her pointedly, and the woman looked away. She was playing stupid, obviously hoping that he would drop the topic entirely. But this time he couldn't. "You're divorce Granger. If the Weaselette is on your side finally as I assume, then you have what you need to divorce that monster. And the first step to that would be getting an appointment with the court system to get yourself a date for it."

"Oh, yes," she said, twirling the toast in her hands now. He could tell she was tense, as the food she was holding was becoming more of a ball of bread than buttered toast. He yanked it away from her.

"Something's bothering you," he pointed out, discarding the item to one side of the tray. "But you don't need to be worrying; he's far away now."

"I know," she insisted quickly, not glancing at him. "I'm not afraid."

"Then what is the problem?" He paused for a brief moment, realization hitting him as she reached for something else on the tray to destroy. "Don't tell me you're pitying the fool! Hermione, he has done enough damage to you. Don't you start falling prey to his desperate little attitude. Only a few hours ago you were self-righteously determined to divorce the bastard."

"I know!" She got out of the bed, scrambling from the covers. The tray almost toppled over, but he managed to save it in time as he got up as well. "But, you weren't there yesterday."

"No," he agreed, and she glanced back at him as his voice hinted towards remorse. "I was down the hall, but the bloody walls in this place are constructed to hide as much sound as possible. I could've come to help you if only I heard you sooner."

Hermione shook her head slowly. "That's not my point."

"Then what is?"

"I'm all he has," she spat, turning fully to face him now. "Yes, he cheated on me, and yes he's hit me, but I think in the aftermath of everything that he is realizing that I'm really the only one around for him. Lavender, well I don't think Lavender wants to provide the same things I did; like love. She used to idolize over him, but that might not be the case anymore." She chewed her bottom lip. "Once this divorce gets out, it's going to become a topic of interest. His family would be alerted. They would be able to be part of the audience at the hearing, and they would learn of his misdeeds. What if they turned against him? Who would he have left?"

The blonde groaned, reaching up to rub his temples. Leave it to her bloody, pure heart to start worrying over things like this. "Then that's not your problem," he said, stepping towards her. "You cannot be held accountable for what he chooses to do; only he can. Whatever happens to him is all due to what he dealt out. You can't pity him for that; he's done this to himself. Don't you dare start second-guessing your decision! Just because you saw him in a broken mindset doesn't change the facts; he has hurt you and failed you as a husband, and you have the right to file against that."

Hermione nodded, though her eyes refused to meet his own. Grabbing her chin, he forced her to look up at him. When she spoke, her voice sounded a bit fractured. "You didn't hear him."

"And I wouldn't want to," he said sternly, "And I wish you hadn't. He's gotten to you, and it's doing no good. You don't need him anymore Hermione."

She pulled away, turning to hug herself. She paced the length of his room twice, obviously lost in thought. When she failed to say anything, he cleared his throat and spoke up against the silence.

"What did he say to make you think like this?" His question made her pause before she turned back to him, and he saw her shoulders sag a hair.

There was a long moment of silence again before her voice broke it.

"He talked about needing me at home," she said slowly. "He said so while trying to undress me. And then when I retaliated against him, his tone switched to something far less pleasant. He got angry, and he wanted nothing more than to call me a bitch. He said he provided for me, that he cared for me. He… he tried to make himself out to be something better than he is, someone nicer than he is now. And then he told me I have changed."

Draco stepped up behind her, daring to wrap his arms around her middle. She leaned back against him, and he could feel the slight tremor of her body. "You have changed," he agreed quietly, ducking his head to rest it on her shoulder. "But for the better. Weasely simply can't accept that you are moving on into a life where you will no longer be with him. You've been together so long, he doesn't know how to do anything else. And he doesn't want you to leave because he enjoys controlling you and having someone to provide for _him_. He doesn't want to stand alone."

She nodded slowly, not turning to him. She found it comfortable to simply rest right where she was.

"But you'll do well standing alone," he continued, rubbing her arms. "You've always been the stronger person of the two of you. Only, you won't be alone in the aftermath of this. More people will side with you than him when the situation is revealed. You'll have your friends still Hermione, and you'll have me."

The girl twisted in his arms so she faced him now, resting her hands on his chest. "I know I'll have you," she said quietly. "If you didn't intend to stay around you wouldn't keep bothering with me."

"Oh, I intend to stay around." She smiled at that, causing his heart to leap a bit. It was a full smile, and despite the few stray tears littering her face, he could see that she did look happy.

Then she did something completely unexpected. Catching him off guard, she stood on her toes and placed a kiss on his cheek, backing up a moment later. To say he was surprised would be an understatement.

The brunette turned away. "I'm going to go get dressed for the day," she said hurriedly. "Then we can send a letter off to the Ministry and work on the salve for your mark." He nodded once as she brushed past him, intent on getting out of the room. In her wake, he grinned.

He wouldn't argue with her if she decided to do that more often, though he would prefer if her lips moved a bit more to the right. Sitting down on his bed slowly, he closed his eyes. That simple, hesitant kiss brought back old memories of his, memories that she idnd't share. Perhaps there was still some time in his life to turn those memories back into a reality.

_I hope so anyway._

* * *

They sent the letter off a little over an hour later. Hermione seemed a bit jumpy after leaving her room again, and he made a mental note to suggest to her a different room in the Manor, preferably the one across from his own. But for now he silenced the idea, knowing that it wasn't the time.

Things were underway. The letter was off to the Ministry Courts, and with both a Malfoy and Hermione's seals decorating the front, he knew it would draw the much needed attention they wanted. Hopefully it wouldn't take too long to receive a letter asking for their audience to discuss the reason for divorce- and hopefully- the date of the trial.

He was quiet as Hermione worked, watching her worry over some books and notes of her own. She wanted him there that day, and he could easily enough figure out why. He didn't ask.

But he wasn't much watching the salve progression, but more so the woman who was working. Despite the slight pinch in his arm as the pain slowly came back that day, he couldn't focus on it. He could only focus on Hermione, and her soft lips that kissed him an hour before.

He intended to get a real kiss from her again sometime soon.

* * *

**A/n: **I hope you enjoyed! Shoot me a review so I know what you thought. Don't worry, the kiss is coming, but it doesn't come without a bit of baggage.


	33. Aftermath: Secrets

**A/n:** Thanks to my beta **loveinthemadness**! Not yet edited.

* * *

She seemed to avoid him the rest of the day. She wouldn't look into his eyes, much less hold a sensible conversation. The only time they really spoke at all was when he offered to reappoint her to a room across the hall from his own, away from where she had been. The brunette accepted all too eagerly, not that he wasn't pleased.

Potter sent her a letter late that night, though Draco didn't ask what the contents of it said. The woman seemed distressed still, so he decided to keep his distance the rest of the day. Ron's reappearance didn't sit well in her mind, and he wasn't in the mood to try and comfort her after spending the day doing exactly that. For the time being, he left it alone.

The following day, he awoke to someone shaking his shoulder. Peering through half open eyes, he glanced up and noted that Hermione stood by his bedside, a semi-worried expression marring her features as she looked down at him. He sat up quickly at that.

"Something wrong?" he asked, reaching over to grasp her shoulder. Apparently that was an invitation for the girl to sit down, and he found the brunette practically sitting on top of him a moment later, her arm jutting out to shove something into his face.

He took the letter from her grasp, scanning the contents quickly. The Ministry seal at the bottom immediately drew his attention, but he tried to look elsewhere on the letter. He knew exactly what this had to be for, and hoped that she hadn't read it in advance. Writing the letter to the Ministry had been difficult enough on her, and he wondered if there was anything in the letter mentioning what they brought up. Thankfully, this letter was very professional and basic.

"You have an audience to speak with the courts," he said, glancing to grin at her. "Congratulations. That can take months sometimes."

Draco thought she would be ecstatic to learn that her request to get a date with the courts had processed so quickly. The fact that he pressed his seal onto the envelope alongside hers at the last moment had to help matters a bit, but even he wasn't prepared to receive the letter back after only two days. It must've really caught someone's attention.

When Hermione didn't respond back and just continued to stare off ahead of her, he gave her a slight nudge, still groggy from just waking up. "What's wrong? You should be happy; its almost over."

The girl glanced at him, giving him a soft smile. "I know," she said, though her voice sounded frail. He scrunched up his face, wondering what exactly that meant. Scooting away from her on the bed, he beckoned for her to join him. She looked hesitant to join him, but nonetheless only waited a moment before scooting in beside him, slipping herself beneath the warm covers.

"If you know its almost over," he said after a moment, "Then what's the problem? Smile! You'll be free of that bastard before you know it."

"Yes, I'll be free of him," she muttered, glancing at him. "And its moving so fast."

"Is that a problem?"

Hermione shook her head, looking down again. "Not exactly."

"Then what is?"

The woman sighed, rubbing her face with her hands before speaking. "Draco, do you realize what this is going to do? The story of… _everything_ is going to get out, from Ron abusing me to cheating on me. Not only that, but it could get out that I used to work in a club! My Ministry job is basically over, considering that I never go and the work I'm supposed to do at home is rarely finished on time. People will know that I've been living in your home, that you've been having me help with your scar, and that you've helped me hide from him! Right now everything is a rumor, and nothing is confirmed except from that anonymous source ages ago; when I take him to court, everything has to come out. And though trials aren't supposed to be publically released except for the outcomes, I can almost bet that someone there will leak details to the tabloids. If I think life is uncomfortable now it can only get worse from here. People are going to take a side in this, and aside from Harry I'm not a hundred percent sure about how anyone is going to take this." She shook her head, falling back against the covers to hide her face. "I don't want everything to change again."

He gently moved to pull her back on her back again, but the girl resisted. It didn't take long for her resolve though to dwindle, and he managed to get her to roll over and face him.

"Nothing is going to change too drastically. You're not the bad guy in his equation. He messed up, and he will be the one that suffers. You're the victim in this Hermione."

She shrugged. "It doesn't feel like it. I received strange looks the last time something was printed, and even though people didn't know the full story it felt like I was the one they hated." She closed her eyes. "But the funny thing is I haven't done anything wrong. Even when I lied to my husband, all I was trying to do was keep the roof over our heads and provide food when he wouldn't do it. And look where that got me."

The blonde sighed, leaning back against his pillows as well. "You're looking too deep into the matter. I know its in your nature to over calculate everything, but this time you just don't need to. There's no way for you to truly gauge how people will react, and since you don't even have a court date yet you're jumping to too many conclusions. Don't stress yourself out; its not worth it. I'm in full belief that when you do get to court, you will win your case."

"I hope," she said tiredly, and he could hear her yawning beside him. Glancing in her direction, he noted that her eyes were still closed. Pressing his lips closely together, he lay there with her at his side until he heard her breathing slow as sleep overtook her.

Draco waited many minutes before moving. She was on her side now, faced away from him. Not feeling guilty in the least, he rolled over and wrapped an arm around her waist, bringing her back closer to him. He wasn't entirely sure how she would react if the woman woke up like this, but then he didn't care. All he could focus on was having this woman in his head, wrapped in his arms.

He intended to make that a habit once everything blew over.

* * *

He didn't follow her into the court office to plan for her court date. When he tried, she stubbornly pushed him back, declaring that she needed to do this alone. He didn't think that was entirely true, but didn't argue in the matter. The determination in her eyes was strong and he decided to let her be. Besides, they were drawing a lot of attention in the Ministry as it was; no one seemed to know how to react to seeing them together.

Sitting there outside the offices he found himself growing bored quickly. Deciding that she would probably be a bit, he got up and journeyed ideally around that level of the building. Nothing about the interior here really deferred from anywhere else in the Ministry, but at least he wasn't sitting there on his arse wondering if she was creating a formable argument to get a court date. She could say what she wanted in there, but no one would truly hear the truth and testimonies of her friends until she got a court hearing. He just hoped she didn't choke up beforehand and start worrying over events that hadn't even taken place yet.

Rounding another corner to circle back towards where he left Hermione, something interesting caught his eye. There were far less rooms in this hallway, as well as very few rooms littering the walls with closed doors. He jumped back behind the wall again as his eyes picked out two nearby figures, who caught his attention immediately.

Now they were a pair he never expected to see together.

"Will you go talk to her?" the woman asked, glancing around. "I don't want her ruining everything for my Ron-Ron."

"Will you stop it with those nicknames? Yes, I will be owling her once I return home. The less she trusts that Malfoy character, the better. It'll be easier to break her if she doesn't feel quite so strong about her companionship to him."

Draco's eyes narrowed. Not only had he found Brown and Finnegan in the Ministry talking suspiciously, but they were also talking about him? That meant Hermione must be the girl. Pulling out his wand, he muttered a spell under his breath and continued to observe.

"Just don't mess up. I don't want any more bad publicity for him."

"Don't worry Lavender. I know exactly what I'm doing."

The blonde turned quickly and began walking in the other direction as though he had been intending to walk that way the entire time. It was obvious that they were trying to discretely end things right there, and he didn't want to be noticed in case one of them came around the corner. Turning things over in his mind, he rounded the next corner and headed back to find Hermione.

He just wondered what those two were doing in the Ministry to begin with. And more so, why there? They didn't have any business there, though they seemed to go unnoticed by everyone. Didn't anyone see this as suspicious behavior. Draco frowned. There had to be something he was missing.

* * *

"In a weeks time we're going to present all our topics to the judge," Hermione said, pacing Draco's room worriedly. They had been home for hours by that time, and he had yet to bring up the Lavender and Seamus topic. The girl was simply too frantic at the moment to thing about anything else except her upcoming hearing. "They assigned me a laywer, though I doubt he will do any good. We can give him an entire bloody file on what's happened, and that can't even begin to cover your testimonies!" She sat down on the bed beside him, looking drained. "I thought I had a bit more time to compose myself than this. A week is a it fast."

"You'll do fine," he said, giving her a soft smile as he stroked her back. "They are pushing things around for you specifically because you are a war hero. Now that the case is in progress, Weasely will be watched closer by the authorities. You're testifying over an abuse case; they can't just ignore the topic you are bringing up." He squeezed her shoulder. "Things will just be tense the next few days."

"I wish things were easy," she replied, glancing at him. "In the muggle world, you can divorce quite a bit faster than this under circumstances."

"Well then I'm certain marriage isn't nearly as treasured there," Draco replied, looking troubled by her comment. Why ever would they speed up the divorce process? That would make it too easy to get rid of your spouse. But he didn't know enough about matters like that to start wondering about them too much. There were far more important things to trouble himself with anyways.

She shrugged, falling back on his covers. Raising an eyebrow, the blonde wondered just when she had become so comfortable in his bed. This morning she hesitated to even climb under the covers, and now she was throwing herself down on the mattress.

"I just want it to all be over without all the trouble," she muttered. "But unfortunately, life doesn't work like that."

"Indeed it doesn't," Draco replied, stretching. He stood, glancing back at the rumbled sheets they had left unfolded this morning when they departed for the Ministry. He had told the elves to not fix the mess.

"Maybe we should get to bed," he said after a moment. "The next few days will be extremely packed."

Hermione nodded, looking uncomfortable again as she got off the bed. They bid each other goodnight, both of them worn down from the troubles of the day. He waited until she was gone from his room before disrobing down to his boxers, and climbing into the bed, too weary and troubled to bother showering beforehand.

He just wanted to sleep.

* * *

Neither of them was quite sure when it happened, but sometime during that night his door creaked open and a figure slipped in. Maybe he should've been startled by the noise, but for some reason Draco knew not to trouble himself with it. He only lifted his arm as hesitant steps wandered closer to his bed, and a moment later the slim figure of a woman slipped under his coves, sheltering herself beneath his arm.

Draco grinned as Hermione settled in. She was comfortable in his arms, and he couldn't be more pleased to have her there.

* * *

**A/n:** I thought about putting the kiss at the end of this chapter but decided not to because it was going to leave a huge cliffhanger! So in the next one be prepared for some drama! Leave a review if you would be so kind darlings :D


	34. Aftermath: Again

**A/n**: Sorry about the late update! I had the ACT and a ton of work to do for an AP class (college level English) on top of registering for my college program. So writing just escaped my mind. Hopefully you will forgive me. The links on my profile. As usual, thanks to my beta **loveinthemadness**! *Not yet edited.

* * *

Hermione didn't move immediately when she awoke the following morning. She couldn't quite yet wrap her head around the idea that she willingly joined Malfoy in bed. Sure, nothing really happened, but the situation was still strange. Part of her wondered if she only did this to have leverage over Ron the next time she saw him, but her heart knew that wasn't the case. Ron had nothing to do with this.

The reality of the situation was that she liked sleeping by his side, having his muscular arms wrapped around her middle as they slept. He obviously didn't find this concept revolting, as he didn't shove her away last night. Come to think of it, the first time they spent the night together was because he decided to sleep beside her. She couldn't say that she minded.

Something had been forming between them for a while now. She couldn't quite place when it started, but if she were to be frank she felt drawn to him since that first day he found her out in the alley, trying to get into her work through the back. At the time she didn't understand why, and even now that answer eluded her. Something about Draco seemed remarkably familiar and inviting in that moment, but she would never have let her guard down for him. They were still enemies- as far as she was concerned- at that time. Considering how bizarre the situation was, she never bothered bringing it up.

Draco continued sleeping on, oblivious to the fact that she was awake. Pulling herself free from his grip, she slid from the bed and straightened herself out. She was in need of a shower, and there was no sense in waking him up just for that. Padding across the floor as quietly as she could, the girl was almost out in the hallway when he spoke.

"Come back," he said groggily, startling her. She jumped at the sound, and took a moment to compose herself before turning around. The blonde was sitting up in his bed, rubbing the sleep from one eye with his hand as he gazed on at her with the other. He inclined with his head that she should return, giving her a soft smile. "It's too early."

Hermione very well knew that was a lie, for she knew it had to almost be noon at that point. Playfully shaking her head, she turned away again. "It's past eleven Draco; it's not early at all. I'm going to go take a shower. Perhaps you should do the same." She giggled slightly, and it caught his attention. In a way, he felt she was being a bit playful. "It might help."

Draco scowled as she dashed from the room. He was uncertain whether or not that was a joke, but she certainly thought it was. Deciding to not focus in too much on things, he shrugged and rolled back over, happily relaxing into his pillows. He would take a shower later, when he was less exhausted.

She certainly looked good in the mornings with her bedhead hair-do and relaxed body. He wouldn't mind seeing her like that more often. But her body was already gone from his sight, and he missed the view. Oh well, it was probably time to get up anyways.

Surprisingly, he showered that day faster than she did. When he finished he went downstairs to find the paper and some breakfast. He was barely beginning to eat the food the elves brought to him when he stopped the fork-full of food halfway to his mouth, his attention fully captured by the newspaper headline. He grinned wickedly.

_This has to get her spirits soaring. _He waited patiently for the girl to appear downstairs, determined that she would eat an actual breakfast that day. When she did finally appear, she gave him a funny look.

"You seem pleased," she said, taking a seat beside him. "Something good happen this morning while I was showering?"

He nodded once, shoving the paper towards her. "Read the headline."

Hermione took the paper from his hand, reaching for a slice of bacon as she did so. When she had her breakfast plate collected in front of her, she picked up the paper and took a sip of her morning tea, nearly spitting the liquid back out across the text. Her eyes were huge.

_Golden Trio Member arrested late Last Night_

_Reportedly, the acclaimed husband and lover of Hermione Granger- Weasely, Ronald Weasely, was arrested late last night in their shared apartment. The apartment is being taken from the couple, and with Mrs. Weasely ignoring her husband's very existence it doesn't seem very likely that the dwelling will remain in their name. _

_Witnesses tell us that Hermione Granger- Weasely was seen in the Ministry just yesterday morning, chaperoned by none other than Draco Malfoy. We have speculated for a while now that Mrs. Weasely might be unfaithful to her charming husband, but now that she has been spotted on an outing with the proclaimed bachelor we can only suppose the rumors are true!_

_But is the beautiful wife of Mr. Weasely the reason he has been arrested? All has not gone well with the couple for a while, but now things have really hit the rocks! Can be expect for things to ever go well for the married pair again? Only time will tell dearies! _

She cringed. Obviously nothing was being explained about her court appointment, for nothing was specifically mentioned. At least the divorce meeting was under wraps, but for how long? She could only imagine the amount of questions that would arise from his poorly informed article. She threw it down, causing the blonde to raise an eyebrow.

"Well, at least he's behind bars," she muttered. "Now if only the bloody reporters hadn't gotten wind of anything!"

The blonde leaned over in his chair, draping an arm around her shoulders. "They were bound to find out. Honestly Hermione, when domestic violence cases appear like this no one takes it lightly. Of course they would arrest him until the trial, just to be safe. Lavender Brown probably heard or saw something and went to the reporters. I expect that she is behind more than one of these silly articles." He rolled his eyes. She wasn't exactly elated like he hoped, but at least she saw the importance of this. If nothing else, perhaps she would feel safe if he couldn't get to her at all.

"I agree," she muttered. "I hope the bloody woman isn't allowed at the trial!"

He squeezed her shoulder. "I can work on that." She gave him a small smile at that. "But speaking of that bint, I saw her out at the Ministry yesterday down in the court section. Can't fathom why ever she would be down there."

Hermione frowned. "Was she there to spy perhaps? Was she near the room I was in?"

"No," he said wish a shake of his head. "I went wandering after you told me I couldn't go in, and I found her speaking to your friend Seamus further into the structure. I don't exactly know what they were discussing, but it didn't sound like anything good."

"That's not promising," she muttered. "I wonder what she was doing with Seamus. I haven't spoken to him much since quitting my job at the club, but the last time we spoke he didn't seem to fond of Lavender. I wonder what's changed."

Draco shrugged. "What's his problem with her?"

"They never got along very well in school," she said simply. "I suppose we have all grown and changed, I just never considered the idea of them becoming friends. I hope the day never comes. He doesn't need that twisted woman in his life. If she loves my husband after everything than something is seriously wrong with her."

"My thoughts exactly," Draco replied. Sipping his drink, he studied her. "Any plans for today?"

"Not really," she replied, rubbing her head. "I just plan to work on the salve some more. It's frustrating at times, but I think I'm finally getting somewhere. Hopefully I can have that mark fixed for you in the next few months. You're never going to be bothered by it again."

He smiled. "That sounds amazing."

"Good, then I better get working. We're wasting daylight!" He watched her scarf down her remaining food, not caring that it wasn't a very ladylike thing to do. He smirked as she drank her tea quickly, the beverage having cooled quite a bit. She waved at him as she hurried off, accepting his composed nod as a response. He smiled after her as she left.

She was quirky, but Merlin he loved all those oddities about her. He finished his food at a slower rate, giving her some time to work alone before he went up as well to see her, thinking he would rather spend time with her than alone in his room anymore.

* * *

She received a letter while working, but whoever it was from didn't appear important to her, and he watched her tuck the manila envelope into her back pocket, shooing the bird away so she could continue working.

"Got mail?"

Hermione glanced at him. "I do indeed. Seamus owled me, but I don't think it can be all that important, so I'm not going to spend the time to read it now."

Inwardly, he bit his tongue to keep from saying anything awful. Something about knowing that the bloke was owling her set him on edge. Maybe it was simply because he didn't much like the man.

Draco continued to watch her, keeping his expression clean the whole time. He didn't want her knowing that he couldn't stand that man.

* * *

That night, he was surprised that she stayed in his room so long after dinner. The girl spent nearly the entire day in the lab working tirelessly over the salve, and though he wanted her to take breaks at times she promptly refused. She kept saying she was on to something, and she didn't want to lose it.

He made her stop when she practically fell asleep when he returned back to the room later. He left at one point to meet with one of his business advisors to hear about all the money they were making in ways that occasionally confused him, but the meeting was short. Draco didn't like the man, and he didn't want to spend any more time than needed with dealing with him when he could be upstairs with the brunette.

But now they were lounging around his room, and he felt quite content to have her in there. She looked at home sitting on the sofa by the fire, reading through some worn novel she had snuck with her from her home. He laid on the bed, attempting to read the business section of the paper. It wasn't working so well, not when he kept getting distracted by the gleam of the fire on her skin. Things weren't working well for him just then.

When they did finally decide to turn in, sh surprised them both. Although the girl disappeared to her room to find her pajamas and change, she returned only a few minutes later with the same book in her hand and her wand twirling in the other. He paused when he saw her, having been about to crawl beneath the covers.

She brought things with her this time. This was more than a daredevil choice in the middle of the night to come and sleep with him. This was a choice she thought about, and if she was bringing things along she obviously intended to stay the entire night, and perhaps well into the morning.

He raised an eyebrow as she sat on the bed. "Mine's lonely," she said simply, placing her things on the table before crawling in. He just grinned at her actions, overjoyed. He really was going to get her in his bed, every single night.

* * *

**A/n: **Nothing really happened here, sorry! I needed a developer chapter for things to make sense later. Review anyway? I would love to hear your thoughts.


	35. Aftermath: Kiss

**A/n**: Thanks to my beta **loveinthemadness**! **Not yet edited. And as always, check me out on facebook! The link is up on my profile.

* * *

He didn't let her leave the bed immediately that following morning. His arms remained locked around her form even as she tried to climb from the bed, his persistency to keep her at his side endearing. She rolled over in his tight grip at one point to raise an eyebrow at him.

"Do you plan to ever let me go free?" she mockingly asked. He chuckled in response.

"If you give me a kiss." She nearly jumped from his grip, thrown by the reply. She never expected an answer like that, and felt a bit unsure how to answer. What if this was just a game of his?

But then, if it were just a game, he probably wouldn't hold her like this. Looking up at him, she was surprised to see a genuine expression on his face. Usually the blonde was so guarded and masked that she was lucky if she saw an ounce of raw emotion at all. Then again, he hadn't been quite so shut off from her as of late.

"And that's going to make you let me leave this bed?" she asked, her breath deepening. She could feel her cheeks heating up, as though she was embarrassed by this conversation. It had been a long time since she got intimate with anyone but her husband.

Again, the blonde chuckled. She couldn't quite tell if he was nervous or not, but she doubted it. He never seemed very nervous. "Perhaps. You won't know unless you try."

It seemed like a brazen offer, and one that Hermione wasn't prepared for. Sure, she knew there was something beginning to form between herself and Draco, but she wasn't quite thinking it would escalate so quickly. After all, she was still married for Circe's sake. Yet his offer seemed tempting, even if she wasn't sure she would want the reward after. Maybe the idea of kissing him was just a bit too appealing.

Or perhaps it just had to do with the fact that she had only just woken up. But in the end, she didn't care that her half-conscious mind wasn't certain about this choice. It sounded appealing, despite everything she told herself. And they were cocooned in a home that no one could breach. She had nothing to lose by giving into some of her temptations here.

As she leaned in she cringed at her own thoughts. Was that what Ron thought the first time he cheated on her? But her musings were washed out of her mind as Draco closed the gap between them, deciding to hurry the process along. He seemed eager to get along with things, and she would be lying if she said she disliked it.

It was like a breath of fresh air. The brunette was surprised actually by how tenderly his soft lips caressed her own, softly working against hers, as though testing the waters. She didn't need to wonder why that was, not after everything. Yet it was only minorly displeasing to have such butterfly-like kisses administered. She understood that he was trying not to spook her, and she took that to heart. But the fact of the matter was that she wanted to be kissed as though he really wanted her, so though someone in that world still truly _needed_ her.

Reaching back, she laced her fingers through velvet locks. Merlin, his hair was perfectly soft. She gave his head a slight shove, indicating that she wanted him closer, harder, rougher. He took her small gesture full on, reaching to cup the back of her head as the kiss suddenly intensified, that very real, raw need Hermione desired so badly peeking through as Draco's actual emotions came into the light.

It felt better, and her heart soared as other parts of her body tingled. It had been so long since someone held her like this, possessively, lovingly, and just kissed her with that kind of feeling. She felt herself drifting off to cloud nine, lost in the ferocity of his lips and the heat of their bodies now laying tight against each other on the mattress. Nothing had ever felt so right.

For a moment, she couldn't recall any other kiss that rocked her world like this, not even Ron's.

And then that moment was shattered.

Hermione continued to kiss him intensely, one of her hands gripping at his shoulder now. But despite the moment of heated kisses and unspoken words, she couldn't help the thought that was peeking through at the back of her mind, as though telling her she was missing something about this picture here.

Like she was missing a piece of a puzzle as to why he kissed her so eagerly. There was a distinct difference in a person's behavior when they feel something for you, and when they utterly _want you_.

The unknown thought tickled at the back of her mind, disrupting what would otherwise be the absolute perfect moment. One of his hands snaked down to grip her hip, pulling her body flush against his own without his lips ever leaving hers. That's when she felt the thought in her mind explode.

She had been kissed like this once, but only once before. It was nothing like this though, not as far as physical activity went. It was an unexpected kiss then, one that caught her completely off-guard and made her weary of his intentions, but caused her heart to flutter nonetheless. A kiss from someone she deemed the enemy. A kiss that rocked her world.

A kiss that had been lost in time. Only now was she beginning to recall the only other moment in time when she had been intimate with someone outside of Ron, outside her limited circle of romance. A kiss given to her during a time when the odds seemed to be standing on a fence, indecisive on who would win the outcome of the war. He was the enemy then, someone that beat her up as school children, and then saved her life and let her go free as a young adult. Someone she had never fully understood in her lifetime.

She tore away from him, shoving his body away from her own. She didn't look up at the blonde's face, though she knew he was startled. Swatting his hands away, the girl was thankful when he didn't try and hold her to him. Instead, the appendages dropped off of her, falling limp on the sheets. Hermione didn't look at him as she scrambled back, literally falling off the bed in her hurry to put distance between them.

A single memory replayed in her head, the same few seconds of time lapping over in what had been a blank moment of time for so long. Soft lips, soft intentions, finished quickly and then swiped from her memory. She blinked on the floor, her breathing heavy, but not just from her physical activates anymore.

"Did I do something wrong?" he asked after a moment, when she didn't offer up an answer. Whipping her head up, large eyes stared into his own. He leaned away from the edge a bit. "Hermione, is everything alright?"

He didn't know. He didn't know what that feverish kiss did, or the memories that it recalled so early that morning. From what he had apparently done in the past, she didn't assume that he ever meant for her to discover what their first true kiss was like.

Her emotions didn't fit together. Suddenly her heart felt torn, torn between the obvious attraction she had to Draco and the betrayal she felt at not even knowing that he kissed her all those years ago. Why did he ever swipe her mind?

She stood on shaky legs, the blonde still sitting pointedly on the bed. He was watching her, looking concerned. She doubted that he really knew what was happening in her mind now.

"Did it bring back memories?" he asked quietly, and she wanted to hit him. She knew what he was implying and did not appreciate it.

"Yes," she spat, bitterness laced into her words. The blonde frowned at her tone, seemingly lost as to what he had done so wrong. "More so than one would think."

"What does that mean?" he asked, genuinely confused.

Hermione took a step back when he moved to come comfort her, and picking up that he wasn't wanted, the blonde sat back down. "You should know. More so than me."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," he said gently, obviously trying to comfort her. She wanted to wipe that look off his face. He had no reason to be concerned for her if he was taking away parts of her past.

"You lied to me," she breathed quietly, and he narrowed his eyes at her words. Cocking his head to the side, she took a breath and steeled her voice. "I thought Ron was the only one who manipulated me. I suppose I was wrong. You got a taste of things back when we were still enemies." Her hand softly touched her lips, and she glanced away from the man before her. Things suddenly seemed to be happening way too fast.

For several moments, nothing appeared to dawn on him. But then his features began taking on a look of horror as he toyed with her words. He stood up this time, not stopping himself when the girl took another step away from him. The man felt his heart hurting a bit at the action. "You remember. You remember what I did."

"I remember now that you kissed me!" she spat, crossing her arms. "Or is there more to the story that I don't yet recall?"

Draco shook his head quickly, holding up his hands. "No! There's nothing more! I only kissed you, and it was brief. I erased it so you wouldn't be burdened by the thought."

He couldn't believe she remembered. Lately he had begun to regret erasing her memory, especially at times when he was so close to her and their only brief kiss entered his mind. But he didn't think there was a way to take that back. Apparently, there was, but he wasn't prepared to handle this. Not so early in the morning, when he was supposed to finally be the good guy, and Ron the bad.

Looking at her face, he could tell immediately that she was hurt by her realization. Even if there was nothing left to the story, he knew something like this wouldn't sit well with her during a situation of this kind- maybe ever. With the situation involving Weasely looming over their heads, he knew she wouldn't accept this at all. The man used and abused her, and then he cheated on her. Draco may not have gone to that extreme, may not have done much to her at all, but he knew the fact that he was deceiving her wouldn't sit well.

"I trusted you! I didn't think you were like him, but maybe I'm wrong." Her words stung, but his eyes narrowed. He felt she was overreacting over something that happened years ago, over something he did to make sure that she wasn't burdened by this, as well as to ensure that she would be safe from further harm on the off chance that his side won.

"I'm not like him," he argued defensively. "What I did doesn't compare to your husband. I had my reasons back then to not let you remember, and if it makes you feel any fucking better your well-being was on my mind the entire time. I didn't do it just to fuck with your mind later on in life. Merlin knows I didn't think my life would be like this."

She turned away. "If you lied about that, then how do I know you haven't lied about other things?"

He groaned. He knew Weasely had fucked with her mind, but he didn't usually fathom how fucked up her sense of trust might be. He didn't need to be concerned about that, not until this moment. Up until right then, he hadn't done anything to break her belief in him.

Now he wondered how severely fucked that man left her. He wondered what it was going to do to her state of mind.

"How do I know that I'm safe here?"

"Hermione, don't start overreacting on me. I know this doesn't seem ideal, but it's not as bad as you think it is. It's something from the past, and if you will calm down a moment I'm certain that we can talk about this. Things-"

"I need some air," she said suddenly, cutting him off. She bolted from his room before he could reply, and he cursed his luck. Instead of pursuing her, he gave her some space. Suffocating her with his need to work out this issue probably wasn't the best idea in this moment.

Turning, he paced the length of his extravagant room twice before he turned and hit the wall. Let her be mad for a few minutes, and he could get rid of his frustration. Then they could talk civilly, and everything would be alright.

* * *

She wasn't in her room. More so, she wasn't in the Manor, or on the grounds. He could feel his anxiety growing quickly as he used a tracking spell just to come up with nothing. She had left the property, and he could feel his heart plummeting. It felt like a replay of the Hermione Weasel situation all over again.

He felt horrible. Searching her room, he found that everything was still there. It provided him little comfort, right up until he sat down on her bed and saw the note.

_Draco~_

_We need to talk, but not right now. I need some air. You might think I'm overreacting, but it's a bit surprising and I figured a bit of space wouldn't hurt. I'll be back tonight, so don't start panicking or something. I just want a few hours to myself. Don't follow me, I'll be back for dinner._

_~Hermione_

He tore it up, watching the little pieces fall to the ground. He wasn't angry with her, but he was frustrated. After everything he had done, why did she have to react this way? Why did she have to blow things out of proportion?

But then, the Weasel had been her friend for years, and look what a piece of shit he turned out to be. Maybe she had a reason to be afraid of what might happen now. He just wished she would realize he was nothing like that man.

* * *

She tapped her foot on the floor, unsettled by the atmosphere around it. There was nothing wrong with it per say, she was just on edge. The situation was too jumbled, and she didn't want to consider anything at the moment.

The restaurant was fairly empty with it still being s early, and she was glad for it. The prospect of being harassed by reporters didn't seem very appealing, and she would have to find somewhere to disappear to soon if she hoped to avoid them.

Someone slid into her booth in her distraction, and she snapped her head around to see who it was. She expected to see Draco, but the person who sat opposite her was not who she expected.

"Seamus?" she said, sitting up. "What are you doing here?" Considering their last encounter she wasn't exactly thrilled to see him. In retrospect, she wished it was Draco after all.

"I came to talk," he said cheekily, nodding to her. She raised an eyebrow at him.

"How did you know I was here?"

The man shrugged. "A chance of luck." She narrowed her eyes, uncertain about that answer. When she glanced down to look at her cup, his eyes shot out the window behind her. His partner in crime stood out there, gesturing to him. He nodded once at her before Hermione looked up, his nerves all over the place.

It was her plan, and he didn't exactly like it.

* * *

**A/n: **Thoughts? There's going to be another look into the past soon, but I'm not sure if it will be chapter 36 or 37. It's already typed, so we will see. Let me know what you thought of this one!


	36. Aftermath: Paper

**A/n**: I decided you guys are amazing, so here it is! Let me know what you think and be expecting a retrospect chapter up next because I decided to be nice and hold off on it for a moment. As usual, thanks to my beta **loveinthemadness**! *Not yet edited.

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Hermione felt a bit uncomfortable accepting Seamus at her table. He was acting strange, as though he had a bug in his ear. Every few seconds his eyes would dance around the room as though searching for someone. She didn't understand his agitation.

When he asked if she planned to meet Draco there, she knew something was wrong with him. Admitting that she did not, a subtle gleam appeared in his eyes. The feeling of the entire situation was getting worse, and she decided that she preferred to have tiresome news people around in that moment, just to know that someone was around paying attention. Seamus knew her better than she liked to admit, and he had taken to guarding her when she worked at the club. But that didn't mean she always trusted him.

He had his moments, like any other human being. And it was those moments of uncharacteristic venom and outright aggression that left her on edge. She went to school with this man for years, yet she still wasn't thoroughly comfortable around him, even after everything.

_You're comfortable with Draco though, and you haven't trusted him nearly as long as Seamus. But your trust in Draco is shaky at the moment, and though Seamus can have his moments, he hasn't betrayed you like that. Maybe you just freaked out too much, maybe not. But you'll go back tonight to see Draco, and things will be sorted out then. Don't be so uptight; it's not going to help anyone. _

She tried to relax as they left the restaurant, picturing this as nothing more than an outing with an old friend. And yet there was still that uncertainty lingering in her belly, a different feeling than even how she felt today when Draco's misdeeds were revealed. Although he kept something from her for years, her initial outburst of emotion didn't sit correctly with her real feelings. She was angry, but was she angry enough to let a single incident interrupt the romance building between them? Did she even want to alter that possibility?

Yet with Seamus, there was an air about him that seemed faithless. A dark gloom lingered around his aurora, giving the impression that he had dark intentions. Feeling uncomfortable with the prospect of going anywhere alone with him, she offered that they go window shopping, hoping that he would agree. But Seamus had other ideas.

"You're upset," he said pointedly, glancing at her was they wandered through the street. She drew a lot of attention here, and in that moment she liked it because it meant that she had an audience. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not particularity," she replied, glancing his way. "It's just something I need to mull over in my mind, that's all. I doubt that speaking about it will do me any good. I just have to go see someone and sort things out."

"You mean Malfoy?" he said pointedly, looking at her directly now as they wandered. "I recall the two of you spending an unusual amount of time together the last time I saw you at the club, and then again over by it. I never understood why."

Hermione frowned, looking away. He was certainly eager to get her to admit something. Keeping her cool, she looked back at him with a blank face. "Not specifically. It's an abundance of things piling atop each other. There's more than one person I need to speak with."

As she suspected, he clamped his mouth shut. He wanted proof that she was doing something with Draco, and she would admit no such thing. The last thing she wanted was another leak to the tabloids.

They walked in silence for a bit, and Hermione found herself lost in thought. She couldn't quite decide what she was thinking about Draco, just that she figured she would know when she returned there tonight. Rationally she knew that returning any earlier she might still be heated from their argument, and she wanted to arrive with a clear, sensible mind so as to properly come to a decision about things.

Although her mind was in turmoil, her heart was already dead set on a decision. Despite what he did in the past, she didn't have that to consider until very recently. That never fell into her mindset until today when she discovered the truth, and although knowing that he was keeping that from her, her heart still felt the same about him. Right until that moment she had seen him as a different man, so why should that change due to something he did back when he was seventeen?

It was foolish. Hermione knew that despite not liking it, she would not hold it to him forever. It was a single moment in time that he altered, and he even said his intentions were true. Considering that during their last two years of school she saw very different sides of him than the years prior, she assumed that what he told her was true. And she certainly wanted it to be true.

She was lost in thought, and didn't bother paying attention to where Seamus was leading her. Only when a shadow fell over her did she bother looking around to figure out where they were, and noticing the surroundings of a shadowed alley immediately put her on edge. The girl whipped out her wand, spinning to point it at the man she had been walking with. He had his drawn as well, though his expression was torn, and the weapon lay in a relaxed grip.

"This doesn't seem like the usual place to wander," Hermione said, narrowing her eyes at him. "A bit shady, don't you think?"

"Just a hair," he said an uncertain waver in his tone. "Look, Hermione-"

"What?" she snapped. "I don't suppose you have any decent reasoning for bringing me here? This doesn't seem like a clean walk anymore."

"It's not," he replied airy, though his eyes were back to looking around endlessly. "I have my reasoning."

She felt her nerves tighten, her anxiety kicking in as to just what he might have in mind. "Yes, and what would that be? Do you intend to try to sweep me off to some hidden place against my will? Try me- I'll fight."

Seamus gave an agitated sigh. "That's supposedly the plan, yes?"

"Supposedly?" she asked, her eyes narrowing as she cocked her head. Now she was just a hair unsure about things.

"I needed to get us out of the open," he said, again looking around. "I'm not entirely sure where she's watching from."

"What are you going on about?" Hermione asked, placing a hand on her hip. "Who is _she_?"

"Lavender," he replied, dropping his voice a hair. Her nerves were immediately on edge. "We were supposed to be making a deal, but it's one I find myself not agreeing with."

"And what's your deal?" she spat, doubting that he would give her a clear answer.

He bit his lip. "Do you know how long she has been seeing Ron?"

Immediately, she got tense. "I don't see how that's any of your business."

"Maybe it's not," he muttered, taking a step forward. She took one back in return. "But as business partners she felt compelled to tell me certain things. She's in on this whole thing for Ron you know. That's the only reason we are working together."

Hermione huffed. "I doubt it's the _only_ reason."

"Fine, perhaps it's not the only reason, but right now it's the one that matters to this situation. I didn't quite expect to meet you at the café today," he began, holding up his opposite hand. She didn't even take notice of it, conscious that he might try to overpower her at any moment.

"Lucky chance?" she asked, acid in her voice.

"The plan hasn't been entirely worked out," he snapped, eyes darkening. "I made a deal with her a few weeks back to help her keep Ron out of jail, and in return… in return I could have you."

Her eyes flashed. "As if Seamus! You don't just get to decide who you want and have them come to you! I wouldn't let you have me as it is."

"I've noticed," he snapped bitterly. "When I ran into you outside that shop a while back, I didn't expect to see you there. I was already collaborating with her by then. Seeing you was a shock, but… but I thought for a moment maybe I would have some time to speak to you personally and maybe get inside that head of yours." He dropped his defenses, his already weak hold on his wand slackening to a point where she thought he might drop the object entirely. She however did not drop her stance. "When Malfoy walked out the door however and joined you, I realized something about my deal with her."

"And what's that?" she asked, though it sounded like she could care less.

"That I was going to get fucked out of our deal," he said, shaking his head furiously. "I never expected the two of you to grow so close! He's so protective of you, it's obvious how he feels. Considering that I would've been taking Ron's ex-wife, I didn't think it would be in my favor to take Malfoy's girlfriend as well."

She shifted uncomfortably. "He's not my boyfriend."

"Perhaps not yet," he relented, "But he will be. I can see it between the two of you. Back at the club, back when he visited you and you still worked there, that chemistry wasn't present. Something's changed. You two have grown closer together."

The brunette shrugged. "That happens when people collaborate together."

"It's more than collaboration," he said sadly. "Something's forming. I was fully intending to try and take you away, make you realize why I spent so much fucking time at the club guarding you, but I doubt now that you want to hear a word of it. When I realized that I wasn't going to get anything out of this, I decided to drop my part in it entirely. I've worked magic to be able to get you in this place at all."

_Oh yeah, magic. _"Well I'm glad you considered being a sensible human being before you did soemthing too idiotic! I'm so fucking happy for you that your mindset changed on the matter only because you would no longer benefit from this situation. That makes this entire experience a whole lot better!"

"Hermione-"

"Would you still let me leave?" she asked, cutting him off. "Would you still allow me to walk out of here even if Draco wasn't part of this. If you still thought there was a chance that you could rip me away and get what you wanted, would you still stop yourself?"

His silence spoke volumes. She saw him then, not as the person who decided to be a decent human being and try to help her in a situation where she barely wore enough fabric to hide her body, but as a bastard who would love to manipulate her if only the odds were in his favor. If he could still benefit in any way from this, he would take her. And that realization was disgusting.

"That's what I thought!" she spat. "That doesn't make you a good person for giving up you idea neitrely; it makes you sick for trying it out in the first place."

"I know," he replied, glancing away. "Look though, I decided to change my mind. I've decided to not go through with this elaborate plan I set up with Lavender. But hear me out Hermione. I placed a spell on this alley when we walked in so reporters wouldn't record this entire meeting. It will also keep Lavender out."

Her expression darkened. "She's nearby?"

"Yes! But look, I don't know how much longer the spell will last. Barriers aren't my specialty." Reaching into his pocket, he withdrew a small piece of paper. "Here, take this."

She gave him an unimpressed look. "Why would I take anything from you? You've just blatantly proven to me that I can't trust a word that comes out of your mouth!"

Seamus held up a hand again. "I know- you think I'm a bastard for what I almost did, and I'm not sure I would argue with you." He huffed. "I'm sure you'll go find Malfoy after this and discuss what happened, and he will be all too eager to come and beat my face in." The man shook his head. "But that's not the point! I brought this to give specifically to you. Take it!"

"What is it?" she asked, not moving an inch.

He sighed. "It's the defense Lavender is going to try and set up for Ron. She's hoping to persuade the prosecution so that he won't receive time in Azkaban for what he has done."

Her eyes flashed, and she hurried forward to snatch the paper from his hands. He didn't resist as she tore it away, not even opening it as her wand came to his throat. "And how do I know any of this is true?"

"Well," he said, looking away, "You're just going to have to trust me."

The girl's grip on her weapon tightened. She wasn't sure she could do that. But against her better judgment, she took a step away from him. "And this is going to help me?"

"I would think so," he replied, rubbing the spot on his neck that her wand had been jabbing. "It depends on whether or not you actually use it."

"Don't be smart," she spat, still uncomfortable in his presence. Stepping back, she glanced around. "And you're sure no one can hear us?"

"I wouldn't make that offer otherwise."

She still didn't feel comfortable accepting things from him, but didn't argue the point further. "I hope you're being truthful."

"I am."

The girl shook her head. "I suppose we'll see in court. I suggest that you keep your distance from me from now on. Wouldn't want my _boyfriend_ to get a chance to beat you up."

She was playing on his words, almost mocking him. He had no comment to that. Keeping her wand leveled to him until she had to drop it to leave the alley, she turned her back and ran.

Hermione wasn't sure she could trust him, but she wasn't sure she had much of a choice. She just needed to get back to the Manor and speak to Draco. She still wasn't sure what to really think about things.

And behind her, Seamus closed his eyes. He wondered if it was the right thing to do. From behind him, Lavender stepped from the shadows, grinning.

* * *

**A/n: **Let me know what you think! We are getting close! Ten more chapters at most! Up next a look at the past!


	37. Aftermath: Bubble

**A/n**: We are going to look at the Dark Mark again here! Don't worry, you'll find out what's on the paper soon. Thanks to my beta **loveinthemadness**! **Not yet edited. And as always, check me out on facebook! The link is up on my profile.

* * *

He was getting worried. Night came and she was nowhere to be found. The blonde hadn't meant to upset her the way he did, but it happened that way. And now the girl seemed set on avoiding him. Cursing, he decided he hated his luck. Things were going swimmingly until he kissed her, until he reminded her of a past she had been deprived of for so long.

After everything that had happened lately, it unsettled him to now where she was and if she was alright. Her husband might be behind bars until the trial in a few short days, but that didn't calm his nerves. If he had even the slightest idea where she was, he would go looking. But in case she came back at some point, he didn't want to chance it.

Draco was beginning to ponder the idea of trying a locating spell on her position when the floo roared to life. Spinning around, he saw her stepping from the flames, and his mood immediately brightened.

She didn't look exactly happy to be back, but that was expected. The blonde hurried towards her, happy to be back in her presence and persistent to make sure that she was alright. He stopped directly in front of her though, his face scrunching up when he realized she looked like a ghost now that she was in the light, her complexion drained of any color. She was almost paler than he was.

The blonde reached out, gripping her chin. "Hermione? Hermione, what's wrong?"

The girl finally looked up, meeting his concerned orbs. It felt a bit like she was walking on air, floating above her reality. Even Draco didn't seem completely real, so she didn't respond. Hermione knew she was in shock, but was helpless to do anything on the matter. All she did she stare back into Draco's eyes, her hand squeezing the paper in her pocket far too tightly.

He led her to a chair across the room, gently getting her to sit down. "What's wrong?" he asked again, caressing her cheek. The blonde needed to know what was haunting her. He needed to know what to do.

She shook her head, glancing his way. From her pocket she pulled out a manila piece of parchment, wrinkled and slightly damp. He pried it gently from her fingers, the piece tearing at one edge. To this, she looked away.

Not understanding why she was so sad due to a sheet of paper, he flipped the damp piece over and scanned the contents on one side. Pausing halfway down the small sheet, he closed his eyes, comprehending why she seemed so distraught.

Leaning over, he wrapped a strong arm around her shoulders, pulling her to him. She moved without a word, slumping against his body.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, kissing her head. When she didn't slap him, he assumed she was too disheartened to be concerned about his actions. "Where did you get this Hermione?"

She finally looked him straight on then, her eyes staring straight into his. "Seamus."

* * *

When she awoke later, she found it to be dark outside. Despite telling Draco that she didn't care where she slept, just that the drapes were open, he had moved her to a bedroom. Waking now, she found the sky to be a black abyss outside her shadowed room. Reaching out blindly for her wand, she found it really was in the same position Draco had said it would be. Gripping the handle, she let the tin object light up to a single word, illuminating the dark room. She wasn't sure what she expected, but this was disappointing.

This wasn't Draco's room. Although they had an argument, a part of her wanted to believe that he would bring her to his room anyway. But she should've known from the moment she awoke that she wasn't there. The bed was cold on one side, and if it truly was the blonde's room she was sleeping in, then she knew there would've been warmth throughout the mattress. Sighing, she relaxed back against the sheets. She missed having him there, even after she learned things. Hermione loved having his presence while she slept, warm and protected. It was depressing to think that he brought her there instead of her room.

Closing her eyes, she considered the few scarce things they discussed before he told her that she needed to sleep. She explained the experience with Seamus- one which the blonde seemed none too happy to listen to- and he decided that the man' words didn't seem trustworthy. They didn't know if anything on the parchment she was given was true, and that made him weary to believe the words. But Hermione would believe them anyway. She was too upset to do anything else. And Draco knew it.

Lavender knew it too though. That's what Draco kept trying to push into her head. But she was resistant to that answer. She didn't want to believe there was any truth in his words.

Sighing, she rolled over on the cool mattress, wishing there were a pair of arms to embrace her. Yet there was only the other half of the mattress waiting for her, cold and uninviting.

When sleep proved to be impossible, she threw the blankets off her chilly legs and got up, ignoring the shock up both her legs as bare feet touched the cold stone floor. Had he taken her shoes and stockings off? She didn't know, and wasn't sure entirely how she felt about it. But she didn't exactly feel violated like she should.

Finding some socks to try and fight off the cold, she stepped out of her room. Wandering down the familiar path, she came to the lab. Without thinking, she stepped in and let the door slam shut. Immediately, she wished she had been a bit slower with her entrance.

The girl lost precious hours by disappearing that morning. All the plans she had to investigate the potion and work on other things to create a workable salve had been put on hold, and now she was dealing with the consequences. The room was filled up with smoke, pooling around the ceiling instead of staying someplace near the middle. Yet when she breathed at all the contaminating concoction poisoned her airways. Damn magical smoke.

Quickly, Hermione ran through an analysis of what she had done to the potion recently, and what compounds might be causing this unhealthy reaction. She had several different little experiments set up around the room, her abundance of notes spread throughout. She doubted she would find anything she needed before she suffocated.

Pulling her wand out again, she cast a spell, giving herself a barrier between the air around her and the rest so as to avoid inhaling more of the smoke. It was different from Harry's conclusion to breathing under water during fourth year, for she didn't need to find new air so much as keep some private and to herself. At least no more of the smoke would enter the bubble she had placed around herself, ensuring her survival at this late hour. It seemed doubtful that Draco would want to find her dead body that morning.

Wandering quickly, she checked the various mixtures around the room, placing wards on anything that wasn't bubbling or creating smoke. At the fourth compound, she discovered where the problem was.

A blue mixture was spewing out the dangerous smoke, and for a moment she had no idea what she had used to make the combination. Finding her notes among the smoke, she wondered if blue smoke was beginning to wander anywhere else in the Manor. She hadn't shut the door, much less placed a barrier. Great, now someone might figure out what was wrong.

Locating a handful of notes, she scanned them quickly before finding the page containing this certain mixture. Reading fast, she recalled the compound she created, now wishing that she had been more careful with her supplies. What she had put together would burn if touched, and she searched for a lid to place over to bottle. Finding one, she used that immediately, at least needing to get the smoke to stop rising. She didn't want to use magic at first, wondering what kind of reaction that would have.

Pausing, she took her wand and used it to open the lone window she could see. Whispering a spell, she watched the smoke follow the direction she had chanted, disappearing out the window. When the room was clear, she slumped against the table. Well, now she had a mess.

Barely taking a break at all, she looked back to the container. The blue smoke was spreading, but surprisingly it wasn't escaping. Curious, she watched further, wondering what exactly she had created by combining two dangerous things.

The smoke was settling in the small condensed area, which was surprising since the girl didn't expect this solution to work for more than a few seconds. Yet the smoke seemed to be folding in on itself, even disappearing to a degree. It was quite fascinating to watch.

When the smoke had decreased a bit, she made sure the door was shut and took the lid off again. The smoke rose this time, but didn't go very far. Raising an eyebrow, she reached forward and grabbed the container to shake it a bit. It burned her hand, but she didn't pull back.

The smoke cleared, and she looked down at the mixture. It had thickened quite a bit since the last time she looked, and scrambling for something long she stuck a test stick into the concoction and pulled it out. The stuff came out like a gel, blue and sticky. Dropping the sample into a smaller container, she cast a spell over it to check the chemical compounds now.

The same chemicals she had put in were still there, though now they were in an almost solid form. Raising an eyebrow, she thought about how strange that was. Did this happen because she left unstable position ingredients alone too long to create smoke, or was this reaction always bound to happen. She wished she had a thorough answer.

According to her spells, the potion was safe to touch human skin. The ingredients she used were for protection and pain, and she laced a hint of darkness into the mixture, though she had no intention to reveal what it was. That would be her secret.

Hermione jabbed at the mixture, surprised to find a simple touch soothing to the skin that met the blue gel. Curious- and a bit stupid- she placed the gel on the back of her hand by dumping the flat container on her. She hissed, feeling it burn into her skin. Quickly, she shook it off, watching the skin on her hand disappear. Gross.

She tapped her chin with the other hand, fighting off the pain in her hand now from her curiosity. Her spells said it was safe, yet it hurt her. Glancing at her body, she thought about the original intention of this creation. Reminding herself to be careful, she reached out again and grabbed a second sample of the mixture, this time dropping it onto a scar.

There was no burn. Looking at the gel, she watched it bubble, sinking into her skin. Paranoid at what that might mean, she reached for her wand in case she needed to save herself. But as the mixture disappeared from sight on her other arm, her eyebrows shot up. The scar was no longer there.

_How interesting…_

The girl could feel her excitement growing instantly. Without thinking, she snatched up the creation, bolting out of the room. She dashed down the halls, arriving at her destination only a few moments later, panting but she didn't care. Hermione didn't knock like she should've, but instead walked right in, rushing to the bed.

She jumped on the bed, intentionally landing on the man lying there. He grunted at the random, unexpected weight and snatched up his wand as she provided light. Draco stopped his movements when he realized this wasn't a threat, but gave her a strange look.

"Erm, Hermione? What exactly are you doing?"

She grinned, clapping one hand against the container. "I've done it Draco! I think I found you a salve that's better than the one you have now!"

He blinked, struggling to sit up beneath the additional weight. "In the middle of the morning?" She nodded quickly. "What were you doing up so early?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Does it matter? You should just be happy that I've found something! Don't be a prick."

He relented to that. "Fine, fine. Give it here. Just don't burn me or something because of yesterday!"

Without responding, she grabbed the arm that she knew had the Dark Mark on it. Flipping his arm to bear the tattoo, she dropped a bit of the concoction onto it. With large eyes, they both watched it bubble.

* * *

**A/n: **Thoughts?


	38. Aftermath: Solution

**A/n**: Thanks to my beta **loveinthemadness**! **Not yet edited. And as always, check me out on facebook! The link is up on my profile.

* * *

It was an unusual warmth against his skin, but the blonde didn't feel an ounce of pain as it bubbled. He glanced up at the girl who was currently straddling him, watching her face intently as she watched the mess on his arm bubble. He wondered what in Merlin's name she had just poured on him.

The gel-like thing covering his tattoo tingled a bit, a sensation that almost felt good on the dark magic inside the tattoo. He laid back, giving up on figuring out what she was doing. If this was her alternative to his salve, then he wished she had alerted him before pouring anything on his arm.

It was strange to lie there with the woman who he kissed only a day ago straddling him, staring not at his body but simply his arm. Draco didn't let it phase him though, not in that moment. He just gave up and let the concoction on his arm work its magic.

It took a while, and when it finally finished bubbling he was almost asleep again. Shaking the man beneath her awake, he groggily opened his eyes. Hermione was grinning down at him, looking extremely pleased.

"Look," she said, pulling on his arm. It didn't help that she leaned further over him, doing things to his mind that she probably was not intending. Yet she didn't stop, and despite himself he didn't protest. Hopefully though his reaction would go unnoticed.

Turning his head, he glanced at his arm and immediately sat up straighter, having to catch the witch on his lap before he accidently threw her into the floor. The hideous tattoo that had decorated his skin since his sixth year was faded, a shadow of its former self. He touched the skin, expecting to feel the Dark Mark to course with dangerous magic like always. He felt nothing.

Checking his arm, he completely missed her smug expression. "I told you I could heal it," she said brightly, when he never looked over at her to see a reaction.

The blonde grinned, turning to face her. He was overjoyed suddenly, having been expecting the girl's attempt at a salve to fail. But this was better than what he expected; not only did the bubbling mess cleanse pain from a mere touch, but it seemed to be erasing the very essence of the mark. It was more than he ever expected her to come up with.

"How?" he asked, shaking his head at her. She shrugged, still grinning cheekily.

"An accident. I had some different mixtures sitting out overnight to check the next day. I was supposed to check them yesterday, but the day got too confusing. And obviously, there were things to consider handling. I couldn't sleep so I decided to go back to the lab and see what else I could discover. I nearly choked on the smoke emitting from that damn mixture, but once I got it under control I could start examining what I had. Putting it on just my skin burned, but when I tried it on an old scar, the mark disappeared. I knew then that I finally had something."

Draco smiled, reaching up to brush her hair away from her face, the woman still straddling his lap. "I never expected you to come up with something like this, much less in such a short amount of time. The man I bought my salve from created the potion due to a lot of illegal labor- don't ask it's just something I know. I wasn't sure you would ever come up with a solution, but you obviously proved me wrong."

She rolled her eyes. "I've been doing that for years Draco." She moved to wrap her arms around her body to fight off a growing chill, but he caught her hand. "What?"

His fingers barely danced over the burn on the back of her hand, something that hadn't even crossed her mind in all her excitement. But now that he was touching it, she remembered again that the mess she got on herself was quite hot initially. "Do you want me to heal that?"

"Oh, you don't have-"

"It would only take a moment," he said, grabbing his wand again. A quick spell had her hand healed up, her skin feeling better. Although she could've done it by herself, it was nice of him to think about how she felt.

"Thanks," she said, slowly noticing the position they were in. She was back to sitting on his actual lap- straddling actually, if she really thought about it- and it was apparent that her actions were having a reaction. She blushed, rolling off of him onto the other side of his bed. He rolled onto his side, studying her.

"Something wrong?" he asked, looking her over. The woman still wore her clothing from earlier, and the skirt she had thrown on to look nice now lay higher on her legs. He couldn't help himself from staring.

"No," she said, closing her eyes. He grunted, and a moment later a large hand was on one side of her body, forcing her to roll on her side towards him. She opened one eye to peer at him.

"When are you going to realize you can't lie for shit?" Draco asked, the hand on her waist drawing small circles on exposed skin. "Tell me what's wrong."

She huffed. "I hardly think this is appropriate," she squeaked, moving to get up. He wasn't about to let her escape his bed though, and pulled her back to him as she struggled out, her body pulled flush against his own.

"Hermione, if you truly thought this wasn't appropriate, you would actually shove me away, not simply say so." He spoke into her ear, smirking when she shuddered at his words. "And something tells me you don't really mind."

"Draco, I don't know what I think right now," she admitted, though it wasn't something he exactly believed.

With a sigh, he moved and pulled the blankets over them both. "Just remember, you came back to my bed, I didn't force you. Now we should sleep; its late and it's been a long day."

The brunette nodded, snuggling up against him. Draco was right, she did return to his bed, and maybe she didn't mind being there. Closing her eyes, she let sleep consume her once again.

* * *

Draco awoke to find Hermione out of bed, as usual. But instead of disappearing like the witch normally would, she simply stood in front of his full-length mirror, appearing to be studying something deeply. He shrugged his sleep off best he could, rubbing the tiredness from his eyes as he stood up and walked over to her. The witch never looked up at him, too involved in whatever she was doing. The blonde stopped behind her, looking over her shoulder at the same thing she was examining.

A scar, a rather profound one that he remembered from school, from the war. Reaching out to pull one hand away from the concealed skin, he already knew what he was going to look at. As the girl's hand fell back, the word gleamed up at them both; _Mudblood_.

"It's the only scar I have mixed feelings about," she admitted, glancing at him briefly. The blonde raised an eyebrow, attempting to keep himself submerged into this conversation. It was a bit hard to follow though when he had just woken up.

"Mixed feelings? You should hate that," he said, gripping her shoulders. "No good memories can be associated with that."

The girl shrugged, dark brunette tresses falling over one shoulder, out of the messy ponytail it had been thrown into. "I didn't say they were good memories."

"Didn't you just create something to remove scars entirely?" the blonde asked, glancing at her. She used her new potion to remove a scar on her body before she ever attempted to use it on him, so why would she hold off on using it on the most obviously degrading scar on her body?

"I did," she replied, turning to look at him. Early morning light barely peeked through a crack between some curtains, and it bathed the sliver of space between them. "But my scar doesn't have dark magic in it. I wouldn't use your potion on my skin again, for we don't know what the final affects might be." She shook her head. "It was a bit careless of me to run in here and give it to you when I don't even know if there will be lasting effects."

The man frowned down at her. "You were excited, and it isn't unexpected. Lots of people get excited when they have something new to show someone. Don't be ashamed of that. Besides, my tattoo is fading, and it doesn't hurt so much to exist as a human. I'll take whatever effects come with that."

Hermione cringed. "I'm hoping there will be none, but I don't know for sure."

"I know," he agreed, his mind traveling elsewhere again. Reaching out, he ran a finger over the old scar. "I think that you should try to remove it. My aunt left this on you, years ago. And I know the experience wasn't pleasant; I was there after all."

"Yes," she said, pulling back. "But it's not just about what happened to bring the scar about Draco. It's also about having the scar now. A scar means that I survived; if I didn't have one, I wouldn't be alive."

The blonde pursed his lips, unable to think of something to say to that. When she realized he was defeated, the woman reached up and lightly touched his cheek, caressing the skin. "I'll think about using it, alright? But I'm not sure I will. This scar isn't your fault Draco. But it's my choice as to whether or not I want to remove it forever."

"I understand," he said, smiling softly. He gripped her hand, enjoying how close they were. The atmosphere was actually calming, until he returned to studying her face. Then he could read the unease again. His eyebrows drew together, wondering what was wrong. And then it came to him.

"Today's the trial."

She nodded, hugging herself. "I woke up this morning and realized it. It's slipped my mind during everything that has happened. Now I can't escape it, and we really haven't prepared a thing. I mean, I have a lawyer and all, but we haven't really spoken. I let everything else get in the way and now I won't be prepared at all when we go."

"Calm down," he said simply. "When you ran off the other day, I came to the same realization. I sent through everything that I could think of to him so he could prepare a case. I also made sure the Potter couple was alerted, since I couldn't recall if the courts were going to summon them or if they expected us to do it. You're not as unprepared as you think."

"Really? I'm just nervous," she said, giving him a ghost of a smile. "I don't want him to go free, but the paper is tripping me up. I don't know what to expect if that's their retaliation."

The man shrugged. "Court isn't until four this afternoon, meaning that if I send a copy through your lawyer can at least have a look at it. I don't think the information is true though Hermione, not really. It seems like something that Seamus gave to you to mislead you. Don't fall for it."

"I know," she replied, stepping out of his grasp and away from the mirror. "I just want to believe that he isn't the arse that he appears to be. He didn't always appear to be this way."

Draco scoffed. "No one is. Look at me Hermione; a year ago, you would've sided with that prick of a husband of yours, not me. Now things are different. It's just in our nature to judge too quickly."

The girl nodded, removing the messy up do she had done. He wondered how long she had been awake. "I suppose. Before it gets any later though, I'm going to shower. I need something to relieve my stress."

Draco stepped away, watching the girl silently grab up something from the bed and walk out the door. Frowning, he walked over and examined what it was. Nothing seemed out of place, until he remembered what she had brought in last night. It was the bottle that she had taken away, nothing more.

* * *

If ever there was a time in life when the brunette was nervous, it was now. Sitting in the courtroom, she felt her palms getting wetter and wetter as she waited for the trial to begin. Her lawyer- a pinched little man who cut straight to the chase- had already pulled Draco away to speak with for a moment, and now he was speak to Harry and Ginny. She didn't know what it was about exactly, but none of them stayed down there very long.

Ron wasn't in the room, not yet anyway. Lavender sat on the other side of the room, Seamus at her side. The man looked uncomfortable, but Hermione refused to look on at him very long. Draco's words kept ringing in her head, reminding her not to trust him.

"Do you think it will go alright?" she whispered, leaning over to speak to Draco. It wasn't silent in the place, but quiet enough that she felt it necessary to speak in a lower tone. "Do you think… do you think he'll go to jail?"

"Stop worrying," Draco replied, patting her knee. "Your chances are much better than your husbands. But remember, you're not here filing for abuse, but divorce. If he does go to Azkaban, that's due to his own actions, not what you're trying to prove. Hopefully your lawyer will understand that as well." She looked at him, a bit alarmed. At this point, her lawyer needed to understand this case perfectly!

Glancing away, she finally found the rest of the Weasely's. They sat in the middle of the room, undetermined about where they stood. She assumed that they would be on Ron's side of course, but their indecision made her think that maybe Ginny had a hand in making their certainty waver. Otherwise, why would they be unsure if they should be siding with Ron or not? She couldn't think of another explanation.

From behind the judges pew, a door opened. Everyone in the room rose, as a man stepped through, and the brunette could feel her knees as she stood. But Draco stood like a rock at her side, holding her hand for support. She was thankful that he didn't hug her, for what if that mere action was used against him? There had to be enough question circulating around his appearance there as it was.

When they sat back down, he held her hand in his lap, rubbing circles across the skin. At least there were no reporters there. As she took a deep breath, another door opened, and again she felt her nerves stand on end.

Ron walked through the door, his head swiveling around. As he was moved to sit in a chair, his eyes found their target. Locking down his gaze, he started up at his wife, his glare saved specifically for her.

* * *

**A/n: **Alright guys, let me know what you think! Do you think Hermione should remove the scar? What do you think is on the paper? And how do you think the trial will go?

I've been at a standstill the last few chapters. Although I have written several chapters ahead of the actual update times, I feel as though I don't know what to do. There's not really enough for a sequel, not without coming up with another plotline somehow involving Draco's parents or something. Thoughts?

Either that or this story will just have a few additional chapters past the rough 48 I'm planning. Not really sure which choice I'll go with. So please let me know what you think! I do like to try and work with what me readers like :D


	39. Retrospect: Lies

**A/n:** Thanks to my beta **loveinthemadness**! Not yet edited.

**Warning: **Contains some lemons. Minor. Don't like, then don't read. Chapter 40 will return to the present, but for now, this is a look at the past.

* * *

She felt as though she was in a daze when the war ended. She found Ron, and Merlin he gobbled her face up in a wet, sloppy kiss. It was surprising at the least, for her lips felt fresh and plump, as though she had been kissed not too long before that.

But Hermione had no memory of that, so she didn't trouble herself with it.

The first few weeks after the death of Voldemort were hectic for the whole of Britain. Families scattered across the country, trying to locate who was left alive after the Dark Lord's downfall. She spent her time tied to Ron and Harry, helping to restore a civilized world after the craziness that had encompassed Britain over the past year. It was almost a relief to know that everything was over.

Yet she still wasn't completely relaxed. She spent a lot of her time at night sneaking up to Ron's cramped room to visit him, laying beneath his sheets kissing the ginger until he tried to go too far and she had to shove him away. Then they would sleep, and she would awaken early the following morning to disappear back downstairs before Molly got up to begin preparing for breakfast. It was nice, but she didn't appear to find the act nearly as electrifying as he did. And sometimes, that irritated the ginger.

Like tonight for instance. It was like any other night, except that it was September, and if things were the same they would be going off to work in the real world after having completed their last year of schooling. Only they hadn't completed anything, and instead had fought a war. Yet although they didn't have the scores, that's not what was really holding the pair back from starting work like Harry was.

It was Ron. He liked being waited on, being served, and having to do nothing at all. He liked having Hermione in his bed, and he enjoyed trying to get a little farther each night. She had taken to finally just bringing her wand along to fight the prick off when she absolutely needed to. Sometimes he got a bit ahead of himself and forgot she wasn't ready. He just needed to respect that.

Tonight was no exception.

"You're not fun," he spat, rolling off the girl's body. Her top was tossed carelessly on the floor beside the bed, and her bra was pulled down by her waist. He was shirtless, toned and shirtless and quite obviously hard inside his pajama bottoms. Only she wouldn't let him go further, and she couldn't stand it.

"I'm not ready Ron, I told you before."

"We just survived a fucking war!" He threw his hands over his face, groaning. "We are legal, and we have everything in the world to celebrate. Yet you are still so stubborn about letting me take your pants off. What do you have to fear Hermione? I'm not a jerk, I won't hurt you. I will be very gentle."

"That's not the point Ron," she muttered, repositioning her bra again. "I'm just not comfortable with it yet, not ready. Why can't you accept that?"

He muttered something beneath his breath, but she didn't catch what it was. Rolling on her stomach, she shoved her face into his pillows. He always got like that when she denied her body to him.

"You're mine Hermione," he said, his hand coming into contact with her lower back. He rubbed there and it felt good. "You've been mine for a while now, and I have been nothing but good to you. Yet you still deny me one thing, one pesky thing that has been bothering me about you since I discovered I could relieve myself with my own hand."

She lifted her face from the pillows, giving him an awful look. "That's vulgar Ron. Just because you might have fantasies about me doesn't mean that I owe you something. If you could keep your male hormones in check for once then maybe there wouldn't be a problem at all."

"Don't blame me," he spat. "I didn't ask to be horny all of the time."

There was a pause, and during that time the painful erection he was sporting slowly began to diminish. It hurt to get no relief, but with this stubborn, virginal woman there in his bed he knew he would receive no help tonight, _again_.

"Let's just go to sleep," she muttered, rolling on her side so her back faced him. He placed an arm over her, though he didn't pull her close. He didn't want to, not with the fear of getting hard again looming in his mind. He would just have to find some sort of relief tomorrow morning in the shower since he was receiving no help at all.

But he didn't understand. He never would understand either. Ron was simply too dense to realize why she was so afraid of sex, when throughout the war she was faced with a few circumstances that almost left her having to give it up without a choice. The bastard simply didn't understand that.

* * *

Ron didn't understand, and he never would. And the longer Hermione left him waiting, the more impatient he got. He didn't like having to constantly be hard and horny, having no way to help himself when the woman out rightly refused to accept him. He couldn't quite force himself on her, not when he loved her so very much, but what else could he do? He needed to find something to help him out before he did something truly stupid in bed with her one night.

That's how he found himself walking to the club, small coins hidden in his pocket. He wasn't sure what he planned to do that night, just that he wanted to find some way to cope with the woman he loved without completely mucking things up.

This might not be the best choice, but at least it was a start.

He was almost through the door when someone called out his name. Glancing up from his position outside the club, he saw a familiar female rushing towards him. Instantly recognizing her, he gave up his place in line and rushed forward to meet her.

Lavender.

He hugged her tight, excited to see the woman. It had taken a lot to save her after she was deeply wounded in the war, but some professional face-reconstruction spells and a lot of blood replenishing potion did the trick. She was a good as new.

Maybe better. When he stepped back, he surveyed what she was wearing. Damn, the woman looked quite good in short black dresses. He could already feel the blood traveling south, and did nothing to stop his thoughts. Oddly, he didn't regret them.

"It's good to see you Ron," she said, giving him a dazzling smile. A real smile, not the uncertain smiles Hermione sometimes gave him when she was upset. A genuine smile.

"Same here," he said, smiling back. They spoke briefly for a moment, before she cleared her throat.

"Are you up to something tonight?" she asked, eyeing the club.

"No," he said, answering perhaps a bit too fast. She raised an eyebrow at him. "I mean, I don't exactly have any concrete plans."

"Oh," she replied, a smile slowly sliding across her features. Leaning in, she pressed a hand to his chest. "Why don't you come back to my place? We can talk- for old times' sake."

Immediately, warning bells went off in his head. It sounded like a bad idea and he knew it, yet he couldn't stop himself from saying yes. It was more appealing to consider spending time with an old classmate than with a bunch of half-dressed strangers he would never personally know.

But even as they apparated away, he knew in the back of his mind that he wasn't agreeing to go with the minx just to converse. He had dated Lavender in the past. He knew what she was like.

* * *

Her head bobbed up and down, blonde hair swinging around with her movements. This was the kind of relief he needed, he just never expected it to come from such an opportune place.

Lavender lived in a simple home, with decorations that resembled that of their house back at Hogwarts. But the décor was the last thing he was paying attention to. Why would he, when he had someone so very willing playing with him? Someone who knew how to expertly move their tone in a way that made him shake.

Ron gripped her hair, moaning as his head fell back. Here he was, a nineteen year old boy, cheating on his girlfriend. But in that moment he couldn't have recalled whether or not he was in a relationship at all. All he could think about was Lavender's mouth, moving expertly up and down his member.

And just then he wasn't at all concerned about the consequences of his actions.

It didn't take long to lose control over his actions, and he yanked the girls face away from his lap, flipping her back and over the couch. The skirt- or slips of fabric she considered a skirt, flipped up easily over her arse to reveal the skin he had not seen on a woman in a long time; the skin that he missed. He wasted no time shoving her panties to the side and thrusting in, searching for a release.

At some point during the frenzy of sex, he forgot what he was doing. Somewhere around the loud slapping of skin, Lavender's moans and his labored breath, he forgot what he was doing there as he found a release to all his intention.

But mostly, he failed and forgot about Hermione. And Lavender forgot about her to.

* * *

Ron didn't let his misdeeds follow him along over the next couple months. He didn't tell Hermione where he went at night, or why he seemed so relieved when he returned home. She didn't ask, and he didn't offer up any answers.

They got an apartment; they moved away from his childhood home. Hermione wasn't domesticated like his mother, and she refused to wait on the man like Mrs. Weasely did for her children. She refused to change for him, and he didn't make her. He had ways for relieving the tension in his home all on his own.

Hermione grew up, and she gave into he dirty nature of sex. She let herself go, and let Ron take her innocence away. But he lied about things. There was nothing gentle about his actions, nothing remotely similar to how a lover should take someone for their first time. He thrust in, and it was over. Everything broke into a rush of fast hip movements, and she lay beneath him swallowing down the pain from her unadjusted body. If he noticed how unpleasant the experience was for her, he didn't let on.

He left his seed on her stomach, control having never been something the ginger was good at. Then he fell asleep, leaving the sore, disheartened woman to shower alone. She enjoyed the peace for a while, for it allowed her the time to cry.

Ron seemed different, and she wasn't sure she liked it. His promise of sweet sex wasn't there anymore, and she was disheartened that he was so rough. But Hermione brushed the pain of that experience away, squared her shoulders, and moved on.

Sex was like that afterwards; rough and unpleasing. He seemed to enjoy it, though she never did. She watched him move on to become an Auror, though he never did do very well. She didn't offer a lot of condolences on the subject.

He brought her a ring one day, and placed it on her wedding finger one day. No proposal, no confession of undying love. Just the statement that he wanted her as his wife, and that was that. She accepted it, deciding that she would never truly have a loving relationship with Ron again.

At the wedding, he invited Lavender. Unbeknownst to the bride, the woman her soon-to-be husband cheated on her with on a daily basis sat in the crowd, pretending to be happy for the couple. But it was all a show.

The marriage was a sham. Just like her relationship.

And no matter how hard Ron tried to kiss her, Hermione always found herself comparing it to a ghost of a kiss that lingered in the back of her mind. Ron was never able to measure up.

* * *

**A/n: **A different look at things. I wanted you to have a better understanding of what Ron and Lavender have done together, as well as Ron and Hermione's feelings to each other beforehand. Leave a review!


	40. Aftermath: Trail

**A/n:** Here's a new chapter! Enjoy! Thanks to my beta **loveinthemaddness**! **Not yet edited.

* * *

She fidgeted in her chair, listening to someone explain the last years of her marriage. The lawyer did a fine job of presenting her side of the case, and why she wanted a divorce. She dreaded having to go down there and state her case. Maybe if she was lucky, she wouldn't be called down at all.

In all honesty, she didn't listen to everything that the lawyer was saying. At her side, the woman knew that Draco was intently paying attention, having been on edge since Ron took his seat. But he was magically restrained; the mention of abuse having to be taken into account while Hermione was in his presence, just in case it was true. That didn't really make her feel better, not when he could still swivel his head and glare up at her, an icy gaze penetrating into her. She didn't let him see that she was uncomfortable though, not there, not when she was the one taking him to court. The last thing she would do was give him the satisfaction of letting him know that he had any power over her, that he could make her afraid.

Someone squeezed her hand, and she glanced sideways at Draco, who was still paying close attention to what was happening below. It was comforting at the very least to know that he was there to help her.

Unintentionally, her eyes drifted to the lawyer's copy of the letter she received from Seamus. She felt weary having that in the courtroom, unwilling to completely believe that Finnegan's intentions were all good. He was teamed up with Lavender after all, someone who was insane enough to stay with a man who would only ever seek to harm her. What about that situation seemed safe? Hermione wasn't entirely convinced that Seamus knew the details of the story; simply that he was there for purely selfish purposes. Why else would he decide to help?

The tranquil calm encompassing the courtroom was broken as her lawyer brought up a point, one that was again something she missed, and the ginger in the middle of the courtroom exploded. She jumped in her seat, immediately, held close to a toned, pale body. The girl noticed her husband struggling in his seat, fighting against his restraints due to something she had missed. A set of Aurors stepped forward, already prepared to take Ron down. Hermione watched, terrified, as her husband lost control of his emotions like that in public, for the very first time.

She was jolted to her feet, Draco's arm wrapped tightly around her shoulder. He hauled her from the courtroom, just as she heard the judge announcing that they would take a short intermission. Unable to fathom what had been said, she clamped her mouth shut as they walked out of the courtroom. Only when Draco reached up to brush at her damp cheeks did the girl realize she had been crying.

* * *

"He doesn't want to admit to the facts," Draco said simply shrugging as she took another sip of the water he provided. They were sitting in a waiting room outside the courtroom, but away from the barrier that prevented reporters from entering. He was currently trying to soothe her.

"But we've just begun to scratch the surface of things," she muttered, glancing down. "If he is going to break into a fit of rage just because something is mentioned that he doesn't like, how do you think he's going to react when people like you or I testify? He'll lose it."

"And that's just better for you. The worse Weasely can make himself look, the better you seem. Stop concerning yourself with how people are going to react already Hermione; it doesn't matter. People always pick sides, because that's just what we as humans tend to do. However, that doesn't mean that everyone is going to side with him for silly reasons. We might _possibly_ have a copy of Lavender's plan of attack, but that doesn't mean we should trust it. I'll discuss it with the lawyer later when I go to speak to him to be cross-examined outside the courtroom, in an investigation room. By that time things shouldn't be so tense."

Hermione sighed, and he could again see how stressed she was about the situation. There was no doubt in his mind that the ginger man would face time in Azkaban, not with his best mate, his sister, _and_ someone as unlikely as Draco himself testifying that the man did indeed beat her and cheat on her. You might not be able to get justice in court for cheating, but you can for spousal abuse and neglect.

Gently, he gripped her chin, forcing the petite girl to look up at him. "He doesn't have a chance," the blonde soothed, running a finger over her jaw, "Not with your case. You played by the rules, and you found the three required people to testify on your behalf for a divorce. His family certainly isn't going to enjoy finding out the unforgiving truth, but you can't help that. Don't worry Hermione, he can't harm you. There are too many armed people in that courtroom, too many Aurors, and too many on edge people to let their guards down. He may have once had an upper hand when he was controlling your lifestyle Hermione, but times are changing. You have to look past what has happened and focus on what's going to happen."

She gulped, moving away from him to wipe at her eyes. She wasn't actually crying, but she felt the need to do something. A part of her really just wanted the blonde in front of her to grab her and kiss her and assure her that everything was alright, but she knew he wouldn't. He wouldn't do that here, not when things turned out so horribly the last time he displayed such emotion.

But he was right, she needed to stop fretting. In all regards, they were on the right side of things concerning this case, on the side of the abused, not the abuser. Maybe he was right, and they would win. Yet she still got uneasy when she had to face him anywhere, even after she took him down back in her old room at the Manor. The man was just unsettling.

Draco reached around her, gripping one of her hands. And for the time being, she let him.

* * *

Nothing eventful happened the rest of the day. Ron's lawyer began presenting what he had, and Hermione listed more intently, trying to smother herself with the information and points he brought up, looking for loopholes in the opposing sides viewpoint. So far, she didn't see a lot of fact being presented.

At some point, Draco's arm ended up around her, and by the time the trial was adjourned for the day, she was relaxed in his embrace, his hand rubbing on a slim patch of exposed skin on her back.

They exited the courtroom, and for the first time that day she brushed against one of the Weasley's that had come to see their son. Dealing with Harry and Ginny was one thing, for they actually believed her, but Molly Weasley was someone else entirely. She didn't feel very confident as she fell into step beside the woman.

For the first time since she meant Ron's mother, Hermione felt uncomfortable. Even when they got married and all the woman could talk about was little babies, the brunette had never felt uncomfortable around her. Now the icy silence between them was suffocating, and she chanced a brief glance at the stout woman. Her expression was bare, and she couldn't tell what she was thinking. But then, Hermione didn't try to ask.

Draco pulled her away from the ground only a few seconds later into one of the waiting rooms, oblivious to the thoughts coursing through her mind. She shushed them for the time being, deciding that she didn't need to have them consuming her every thought just then. Besides, he was looking at her strangely.

"Are you alright?" he asked, letting that be the first phrase that slipped past his lips. She sighed at that.

"I'm fine," she replied evenly, unwilling to have him worrying so about her again. She was frantic, but she was able to control her emotions in the courtroom, for the most part. She wasn't always going to turn to putty in his hands just because she saw Ron, and he should know that. "Really, you don't have to check on me all the time."

"I know," he agreed, glancing away, "But sometimes it's a bit hard to help."

"I've noticed."

The blonde shrugged. "The Manor's wards are open to you now. I have to stay here and be interviewed by the lawyer for questions, so I don't expect you to hang around. Don't argue Hermione- I can see that you are very tired. It will take a few hours to get things done, so why don't you go home and get some sleep? I'll be along when I can."

For a moment she was ready to argue him, until the word home slipped through his lips. He always called it _his home_ or _the Manor_, but never simply _home_, as though it was hers took. Unsure of the implication there, she didn't put up a fight towards his request for her to leave. She felt a bit stumped.

More so, she was surprised by the unusual fuzzy feeling it supplied in her. Damn those fuzzy feelings.

She left quickly after agreeing with him, kissing his cheek as she left without thinking about what it would do. In the aftermath, Draco just smirked at the room crowded with a few faces, all of them looking horrified that she had kissed him. He didn't rightly care what anyone thought about the situation, but the looks on their faces were priceless.

* * *

"Are you under the impression that Hermione Weasley was abused?"

"She wasn't abused entirely," Draco corrected, rolling his eyes at the lawyer whose name still escaped him. "He got too controlling and almost raped her. He only abused her when she wouldn't play the part of a puppet anymore."

The man jotted down a few short notes to that, glancing up a moment later. They had been playing a game of questions for the last several minutes, nearly an hour now. He had asked the blonde everything in the book, and although Draco was sorely tempted to make the prat seem like a worse man than he was, the blonde held his tongue. He didn't want to say something that might be proven incorrect later. All he wanted was to get the bastard some time in prison, and hopefully that would help correct his behavior.

"Has he raped her beforehand, to your knowledge?"

"Not that he's ever gotten away with," Draco huffed. "She isn't weak; she wouldn't allow that to happen to herself."

"Did Hermione Weasley come to you each time that she needed help concerning her husband?"

"Hardly. I've only been aware of the situation for a short time, and although things might've been shit between them she only ever came to me when shit hit the fan and he crossed the line between detached spouse and abuser. And she only came to be because I had something to offer."

"What did you have to offer, Mr. Malfoy?"

He narrowed his eyes. "I don't think that's any of your concern."

"Actually, it is. If you don't specify what type of job she was doing over there then Mr. Weasley's attorney is going to speculate that damaging that helped sever their marriage, like prostitution."

Draco looked appalled. "And you think I would actually do something like that?!"

"Not from the way that woman goes on about you," he replied tiredly, resting a hand against his face, "But others might lean towards that. You don't want them bringing those types of questions into the courtroom tomorrow or any other day."

"Fine," the blonde snapped, rolling his eyes, "She was helping me with a new potion. I've been having pains of sorts lately, major ones, and the mediocre potions that exist for that type of pain didn't really do the job. She wanted an escape from reality, and I offered it to her for purely selfish reasons."

The man tilted his head in agreement at that, apparently seeing it as something that might actually happen. It was good, because Draco had no intention of sharing his Dark Mark cure with anyone else. It was Hermione's creation, and in all reality anyone with the wicked tattoo likely didn't deserve to be saved. He would indulge Blaise perhaps, but not the whole of Britain.

They continued on like that, asking and answering questions as briefly as could be. Draco left out the details that he believed might harm the case- like getting Granger to share a bed with him- and dragged out the details of any and everything he had seen Weasley do or had found on Hermione from the ginger in the aftermath. The pair concluded their meeting, and the lawyer was beginning to pack up as Draco cleared his throat, not quite ready yet to leave.

"I have one more thing to discuss before I depart," he said, nodding his head towards the opened envelope at the edge of the man's evidence. "That, actually."

"This?" the man replied, picking it up. "What is there to talk about? Seamus Finnegan gave it to Mrs. Weasley, and in return showed it to you and the two of you handed it to me. What's there to discuss?"

"Do you really trust what it says? Do you really think we should believe anything in there?"

The man chuckled then, shaking his head at the younger blonde. "Do you think I was going to? If the boy had any honesty in his heart towards helping the pair of you, he would testify as such. He would not write it in decorative handwriting with a bland explanation as to how Miss Brown plans to make Ron Weasley look innocent. No, the two want you to think that they are just out to keep him out of jail, but I doubt that, Mr. Malfoy."

"Then what do you plan to do with the paper?"

"I believe that Lavender Brown very well knows that Finnegan gave this paper to Mrs. Weasley, as I'm sure you believe as well. They wanted her to follow the paper and bend to the assumption that he was trying to be kind and make up for faulty sincerity beforehand. Only I don't believe that they took into account that she would pass the paper onto you, much less onto me. I know exactly what I will be doing with it."

"And that is?" Draco asked, arching an eyebrow now. Anyone with eyes could see that he was curious.

"They want to trip her up, make her say something she doesn't mean in court. Only to do that, she has to be the one speaking. And she has to testify her points for divorcing in front of the judge. I've already requested that her husband is not present during that time. Mr. Finnegan and Miss Brown are bystanders though, and I cannot exactly tell them to leave the premises unless they are disruptive. When she testifies tomorrow, it will have to be with them. I'm just going to use their little letter against them."

"Oh?"

"I've been in this business a long time Mr. Malfoy," the man said, leaning back in his chair, "I won't be fooled by something so minor. The letter might dictate that Ron Weasley was seen cheating on Mrs. Weasley on more than one occasion, but why would he write something like that in there, dates and all, unless they want to prove her faulty when the topic is brought up. I will only mention those dates in regards to what she was doing, not what he might or might not have been doing. They can't prove anything wrong if she doesn't fall victim to any of their bullshit."

Draco nodded, taking the envelope for a moment. Flipping it open, he read the text once more, still unable to believe that the duo went to such lengths to keep the bastard out of a prison he deserved to visit.

In the elegant handwriting that could be only female, he reread the text.

_Seamus~_

_In regards to the plan, just make sure we can prove that he wasn't off doing anything bad during these times. When she tries to bring them up, he will have allies to back him up. She won't have anything to go off of._

He once again briefly scanned the short list that followed.

_And be certain, in all regards, that she does not have any bruises to prove he hit her. So long as her mind is not read, she cannot lie._

The last bit kept tripping him up. If Brown wanted this to backfire, and if Seamus truly wasn't betraying her, then why mention that she could simply take a potion and be unable to lie? Wouldn't that just backfire on her?

* * *

**A/n:** That's it! Up next, Lavender tries to twist the words on the paper and Draco suffers from it. And a little testimony of course :) Thoughts? Let me know! We are nearing the end! And don't get worried, Hermione will be using a spell of course, and her memories to testify.

**Important: **I'm putting a poll up on my profile as to whether or not to write a sequel. I need to know so I know where I'm ending this story. If you have the time and want to help me decide, just go and vote. It'll be up for a while. I just can't decide what to do, and I got too many PM's and reviews to count them. So vote if you don't mind :)


	41. Aftermath: Testimony

**A/n**: As usual, thanks to my beta **loveinthemadness**! *Not yet edited.

* * *

She slept with him again, unable to consider going back to her lonesome bed. It was comforting to have him there, his arms encompassing her, his body pressed to her. At the very least here in his arms, she didn't have anything to fear.

But tomorrow would be a new day, with new adventures. Lying there tight in his arms, she hoped they would be good adventures.

* * *

The following day found Hermione on the stand, testifying in front of a much smaller audience than before. Ron wasn't around that day, and surprisingly neither were Lavender and Seamus. She attempted to not consider why, but curiosity ate at her. She wondered just what they were doing. Wouldn't they want to know what she had to say?

Obviously, they had more important things to do. Hermione didn't want to consider what they might be up to, for she knew her mind would run rampod with possibilities, and she might just work herself up while in front of the judge, telling them exactly why she couldn't continue to live as Ron Weasley's wife. Maybe it was better that they weren't there at all. After all, now the three most unnerving people for her during her testimony were absent, so what did she have to lose? If anything, this was a benefit to her.

For a time, the questions were as expected. The man helping her husband wasn't rude, but Hermione certainly didn't like him. He had greasy skin, and very dirty nails. His hair sat in a total state of disarray sometimes, and he made her skin crawl whenever he got too close. The brunette may not like him, but he was very fitting for her husband's lawyer. They both made her nerves stand on edge.

About an hour into her interrogation, Hermione grew restless. The questions were boring, simple, and seemingly getting them nowhere. At first things seemed to be going well, and the brunette was confident that she wouldn't have to spend long in the center of everyone's attention. Apparently though, she was wrong.

The potion forced her to speak the truth, but it didn't openly show them the memories. She knew they wanted to hear the facts before seeing them, and only the judge and laywers would be indulged during that viewing. The last thing she wanted was for Harry and the Weasley's to see her suffering, to see how bad Ron could be.

Draco would stay during that time, she knew it. She only hoped he wouldn't lose his temper too quickly.

The group took a break before continuing on with Hermione's truth spell, which would be followed by Ron taking the same thing. They were both expected to project their memories, both limited to a specifically small audience. No one would want to deal with an emotional trip from the Weasley's if they saw something they didn't like. And Hermione wasn't quite sure where they would side in the span of things.

"How you feeling?" Draco asked when she returned to the stands. Besides looking worn and uneasy, nothing appeared to upset her.

"It's nothing," she said, giving him a soft smile. "I'm bored out of my mind from the questions, but otherwise I'm fine." She bit her lip softly. "I just wish they would hurry this along. I don't want to be finishing anything when Ron gets brought back. I'm just ready for the entire experience to be over."

"I assume so," the blonde replied, giving her hand a squeeze. He was just happy that no outburst arose so far, and that there weren't reporters pounding on the door. So long as there was a bit of peace there, he felt better.

Draco wanted to leave when Ron testified. He didn't think it would sit well for her to see his memories, as well as hear his thoughts on the occurrences. He didn't think it would sit well with her.

When he thought no one was looking, the blonde leaned in and placed a kiss on her cheek, keeping it simple enough just in case someone caught him. "You're going to do great Hermione, don't worry about him. No one is going to let him near you during this trial."

The girl smiled softly, letting her eyes flint around the room. It appeared that Molly Weasley was watching their interactions closely, but she couldn't pinpoint if Draco's bold move was noticed or not by the expression on her face. "I hope you're right."

"I will be," he assured her, rubbing her arm. "But their shuffling things back in order now."

Nodding, she stood and made her way to the front again. Briefly, she thought she heard a ruckus outside the main doors, but quickly disregarded it. It was probably nothing.

* * *

She stared at the ground as the memories passed, feeling a bit drained and short of breath. As promised, the amount of people permitted had shrunk substantially, and now the only people remaining were Draco, Ginny and Harry because they testified. Lavender and Seamus were still nowhere to be found.

Hermione knew she gripped her chair a bit too tightly in the aftermath, but she couldn't help it. There was something unsettling about opening up the contents of her head for a judge to examine in a courtroom, to a small group of people who didn't really know what she saw. The truth serum bottle sat empty at her side, the contents swirling uncomfortably in her stomach. The pensive sat off to the side, thus far unused.

Maybe they wouldn't make her use it at all. Maybe her re-account of everything was enough to keep them from actually seeing what she did. Maybe they would just stop bothering her now.

Distantly, the woman knew that the people around her were discussing something, but she didn't listen. She didn't want to admit that she let someone be so awful to her, and that she just stood by taking it, trying to support someone that wasn't good for her.

"Miss Hermione?" asked the lawyer. Looking up, she tried to figure out which one was speaking to her. Noticing that Ron's appointed lawyer was closer, she assumed it to be him. At least he was finally addressing her in a way that she could tolerate.

"I'm sorry?" she asked, blinking down at him from her seat.

"Let me repeat the question," he said, and she couldn't tell from his tone if he was irritated at her lack of listening or not, "Did you go to Mr. Malfoy for aid in the aftermath of your last fight with your husband?"

She bit her lip, deciding to not bring up the point yet that all they had addressed was the first of a series of attacks. They would get to that at some point in the case anyway. "Yes. I went for money, for you very well know that our accounts were drained and we needed money. He offered to pay me if I made him a few potions, and I accepted. At the time, I was still attempting to stay with Ron."

"What kinds of potions?" he persisted.

"I don't really see how that applies," she said, barely glancing at Draco. The woman wasn't sure yet what she wanted to do with her potion discovery. "I'm an honest person, we all know that. If the potion was dangerous or posed as something that could become a problem, I would not have assisted. He offered to pay me because it would only benefit him, and I took him up on the offer to try and pay my rent. It was all for nothing of course, once I discovered that Ron's never been loyal to me."

"Do you mean he wasn't loyal in the beginning either?"

Hermione shrugged, unable to believe she was actually admitting to this. "I'm not entirely sure how long he has been at this."

The man nodded. "Were there ever any other attacks?"

The brunette nodded, recalling the few times her husband tried to wrestle her into bed with him after she stopped returning home…

* * *

When Hermione finished her testimony, she felt exhausted. Draco offered to take her home and let her sleep off any after effects of the truth potion, but she brushed him off. A burning question had settled into the back of her mind since her questioning, and she was eager to hear a result now.

She didn't know how long Ron had been faithless to her, and despite knowing that it might hurt her, she wanted to know the truth. She wanted to know how long Ron had been playing her as a fool.

Besides, he was the fool now. No matter the outcome, the world would look down on him for his behavior. She just wasn't entirely sure how the world would look at her, though the blonde man beside her was certain that no one would hate her.

For a while, nothing new came to be. Lavender and Seamus had snuck in when Ron came in, and the brunette could only assume that she had been with her husband. Where Seamus had been hiding, she knew not. But it wasn't very appealing to see them there. At least her own testimony was over.

"You were faithless to your wife," her lawyer asked, examining her husband. If he hadn't been abusive, if he only ever cheated, there would be no need for such an extensive trial. But the damage was done, and Ron was suffering the consequences.

"Yes," Ron admitted, under the same potion as Hermione had been. She sat a little straighter at the topic change, suddenly intent on his every word. On either side of her, Harry and Draco exchanged a glance, wondering just what was going through her mind.

"And for how long have you been cheating on her?"

Ron gulped, and for a moment Hermione felt herself pause in breathing all together. "Four years."

It was like a slap in the face. Considering that they had only been married for three, that meant that he had been cheating on her even while they were _dating_. After the war, when she was fragile and confused but very much in need of affection, he was there. And apparently, someone was there for him to provide for what she wouldn't. And even after she did give away her virginity to the bastard, he still felt that he should cheat on her?!

_Four years. _

"And Miss Hermione had no knowledge of this?"

"No… I, I kept it from her. I didn't want to hurt her."

The lawyer for Hermione cleared his throat, clearly hinging onto the idea that Ron wouldn't hurt her. "And yet you've beaten her, disregarded her, and thrown her out for someone else who would never stick with you through all of this? She was around even when you weren't, and when you were too intoxicated or angry she paid the bills."

Ron's face colored a bit. "She was sleeping with someone else?" A few faces in the crowd glanced up at Malfoy, who didn't let a single emotion show through on his face.

"Whether or not she actually cheated on you, Mr. Weasley, it's never enough to abuse your spouse. Besides, even if she was cheating, you've been playing this game for longer."

"You didn't see how she was dressed!"

The man questioning Ron rolled his eyes. "Does it matter? That should simply have been a hint that you've done something wrong. Now enough outbursts. Or would you like to make a further fool of yourself?"

He courtroom fell silent as Ron seethed, obviously off put by the fact that he had such an uncalled for outburst just then. It was obvious that he didn't like being made a mockery of, but the twit was doing it all by himself.

"Was Miss Brown the only woman that you ever cheated on your wife with?"

There was a cry from the other side of the courtroom, and everyone glanced over to see Lavender's mouth being covered by Seamus, the boy beckoning for everyone to continue on.

"…Usually."

Hermione felt her spirits drop a little bit more.

"And you admit to abusing your spouse?"

"Yes." The reply came as a growl, signaling the ginger getting angrier and angrier.

"How many times did you raise a hand to your wife Mr. Weasley? How many times did you try to hit her?"

"Three," he spat. "I've only really hit her twice."

The lawyer turned, winking up to Hermione as he walked back towards his seat. "No further questions."

* * *

Night came, and she couldn't feel more uneasy. There would be a decision tomorrow morning as to what would happen in regards to her marriage, and she couldn't be more anxious. She just wanted it all to be over.

And more than ever, she wanted to be free of him. Harry and Ginny tried to make her feel better after the trial was adjourned for the day, but she wouldn't hear it. Grabbing Draco's arm, she yanked him towards the nearest floo and left, unwilling to be so engrossed in the situation anymore. She needed a bit of space.

Draco at least understood that. Despite the fact that she was in his room, he left her alone. Since he was currently in the shower, she had some time to think about things, and put everything into perspective.

_Four years._ He spent four years that they had been together cheating on her, sleeping around, sleeping with people who weren't even Lavender! She couldn't decide if it was better that he wasn't completely attached to just one woman, or worse that he had to sleep with anything that could walk. All she knew was that the man she kissed once during the war was not the person Ron turned out to be.

She couldn't wait to be rid of him. The way things were looking, she was going to get her wish. If only tomorrow would come faster, than she could melt the wedding ring down so she never had to see it again. But she would wait one more day, wait to see Ron's world crash down.

Hermione wouldn't let herself worry anymore about Ron. He picked his poison, and now he needed to deal with the fallout of his actions like a big boy. How Lavender still felt attracted to him, she would never know.

The door to the bathroom opened and Draco stepped out, his hair damp and messy. He was dressed for bed, just like Hermione, and wasted no time slipping in beside her. He looked quite tired.

"You're finished tomorrow," he said quietly, rubbing her shoulder. She wasn't lying against him, but she didn't push him away when he touched her either. "It's almost over Hermione."

"I know," she said, not sounding quite as excited as he hoped. "It needs to be over."

"Yes," he agreed retracting his hand to place his arm behind his head. Closing his eyes, he sighed. "You'll be able to do anything you want when you're detached from him you know. You don't have any more restraints."

At first, she didn't reply to that. She could do anything she wanted when this was all over. Glancing at Draco, she was thankful his eyes were closed; he couldn't see her looking at him.

Just maybe, she might give into her desires.

"Yes, anything. You're quite right Draco."

* * *

**A/n: **Review! Just a few chapters to go. We're so close. Maybe five, at most? Unless there's no sequel… then maybe a few additional ones.

Okay so I rearranged and fixed everything for this story, and I've decided to do a sequel, so next chapter is the last chapter. It will all be explained at the ending of that one. But of course, if you weren't rooting for a sequel you're not obligated to read it. This is just what I've decided to do, and I think it will work the best. So, a sequel is it.


	42. Aftermath: Sentencing

**A/n**: Thanks to my beta **loveinthemadness**! **Not yet edited. And as always, check me out on facebook! The link is up on my profile.

* * *

On her way into the courtroom the following morning, Hermione found herself on the receiving end of more hostile stares than she recalled in a long time. The Weasley's seemed torn, Lavender was hostile, and the reporters were crazy. She just gripped Draco's hand on the way in, ignoring the questions that arose from the action.

Despite her thoughts the previous night, Hermione was still uneasy about things. What if it didn't turn out in her favor for some odd reason? The divorce would be granted, but would Ron pay for what he did? She began chewing her nails before the judge even appeared, and Draco resorted to holding her hands to keep that from happening. Harry took up residence on her other side, first apologizing again for having never noticed, and then tried to comfort her as well.

"Don't get so worked up," Draco reminded her just before it began, "You can't lose. You're on the right side of things."

Somewhere in the back of her head she logically knew that, yet she couldn't convince herself to believe it. Not until she heard someone else confirm the facts. Maybe then she could breathe easily again.

Instead of replying, she just squeezed his hand, holding on as hard as she could.

"Order," drawled a judge at the front, looking around. They had been sitting there for a while now, but Ron had yet to appear. She was beginning to wonder if he would at all. Part of her wanted to see him; she wanted to see his reaction if she won the trial.

"_Not if,"_ she reminded herself, _"when. You have to win this."_

There was no jury for the case. The judge would solely decide her fate, and Hermione was at least thankful that this man seemed to semi like her. Maybe he would vote in her favor, and save her from anything horrendous if she didn't win.

If a divorce wasn't granted, she would have to go back to living with him for the rest of her life. It was hard to get a divorce trial to start with, and if the attempt failed the first time that was it. She would be with Ron for the rest of her life, happily or not. And she just wasn't prepared for that. She had to win this.

Besides, how could she not? They got both Ron and Hermione to admit to things under the influence of truth spells, so it wasn't like they could lie. And after learning the real truth about her husband, she was more than eager to get away from him forever.

Ron appeared a few minutes later, handcuffed and spellbound to stay in place. The room grew quiet as people realized what was happening, everyone pausing to hear a verdict. Draco stroked the skin of her hand when he noticed that she was tensing up.

"Order," the judge drawled again, standing once Ron was seated. It surprised Hermione a bit that Ron got to appear even after the judge arrived. "A decision has been reached regarding this case."

A hush fell over the room, as though no one dared to breathe in that moment. Briefly, Hermione thought she heard Lavender speak, but decided it was simply a trick of sound.

"Ronald Bilbus Weasley," the man said, nodding down to the ginger, "As the judge in this hearing regarding your trial against both divorce and abuse, I hereby allow Miss _Granger_ the separation from you on the account of both spousal abuse and faithlessness since the beginning."

To that Hermione shut her eyes, relief washing over her. It was over. Thank Merlin it was over! Suddenly lost in her bliss, she forgot to listen, and Draco nudged her quickly when the judge continued.

"-Azkaban on the sentence of abuse. Parole after one year, two years at the most."

The brunette frowned at that. Had Ron just been sentenced to jail? Her answer came a moment later.

"Are you insane!? That's ridiculous!" An entire courtroom looked over at the head of Lavender Brown, her face about as red as the blouse she wore. "This is unjust!"

From somewhere on that side of the room, an Auror stepped out, grasping the woman's shoulders as he led her from the silent room, still screaming about the entire ordeal. Once Lavender left though, the room broke into a bustle of movement.

Ron attempted to scream about his situation as well, struggling from his seat only to end up on the floor. The Auror who escorted him in reached over and pulled him up, ignoring the profanity that spewed from his mouth as he was dragged from the room.

"Miss Granger?" the judge continued, speaking over the noise that was quickly escalating in the room. Hermione hadn't even noticed until that moment that she was being hugged by Draco, someone else rubbing her back. She quickly detached herself from the flurry of hands, a bit dazed by the entire ordeal. Reality hadn't really set in yet.

"Yes?" she replied, the conversation still having only caught half the rooms attention. A lot of people seemed to be talking amongst themselves after the outcome was released.

"There will be some papers to sigh after this. Make certain that you sign them before leaving."

Hermione nodded silently. "I will."

* * *

The brunette's daze didn't last long. Everything compiled onto her as she walked beside Draco on the way towards an office to sign her divorce papers, the reality of the situation finally sitting thoroughly in her brain.

She was done. She would never be attached to that jerk again. Before she reached the door, she jumped on the blonde right there in the hallway, wrapping her legs tightly around his waist. He was unsuspecting of the onslaught, and stumbled under her weight briefly. But he was quick to regain his balance, holding the slim female against him.

"It's over," she muttered quietly, her head buried into his neck. "It's over."

"Why yes," he muttered smugly, ignoring the looks of people as they passed, and a few surprised reporters who only stared at first. "I told you you were on the right side."

She nodded against his collarbone, ignoring the fact that she was probably drawing a lot of unneeded attention from their current situation. So what? She spent years loving someone that couldn't find it in him to really love her in return, and even stood around and let him lay his hands on her for a while. She felt that she had every right to be happy and ecstatic in that moment.

Without thinking, she pulled away and hopped out of his arms, his hands pulling away from their position on the bottom of her thigh. Back on the ground, she grinned at him, leaning up to kiss him softly on the lips. If he was surprised that she wanted to kiss him again, then it didn't show on his face. And the photographers snapping shots didn't make her pull away either.

When she did pull back, she grinned at him. "It's time to start something new."

"I agree," he replied, looking less flustered than one would suspect after having both been jumped upon and kissed all in the same few minutes.

Nodding her head in the direction of the door, she grabbed the handle, before using her other hand to grasp his own. "I just have one more thing to handle."

Draco nodded, but pulled his hand back. "This isn't a matter that involves me; it's a legal matter. Just go ahead and sign, I'll wait out here." She didn't argue, and disappeared inside.

The moment she was gone, Draco dropped the relaxed expression and turned away, ignoring anyone who had bothered to hang around, thankful that the reporters had been shoved back out into the lobby, despite the fact that they really weren't supposed to be in the Ministry. He looked around quickly as he walked, hoping to find his target before Hermione finished.

Turning a corner, he quickly backtracked. Potter and his wife stood in the hallway, muttering to the girl's parents.

"It can't be helped," Potter said, attempting to keep his voice light. "Ron has to pay for what he did."

"I know," said another male voice that Draco recognized to be the father of the family, "I know. I only wish he hadn't done it to begin with."

"Well we all do dad," Ginny argued, "But nothing is going to change that. Ron made his own decisions, and now he has to pay for them."

The three bantered on a bit more, drawing Draco's attention. The mother had yet to utter a word, and he wondered why that was. Daring to peek around the corner, he regretted his action.

Molly Weasley sat against the wall, staring ahead of her, eyes void of emotion. He met those eyes briefly, immediately looking away. He left immediately after that, unwilling to remain there.

Her eyes, they were so dead and expressionless, so scarred from the realization of her life, that they had taken on a horrific dull hue that left you with a funny feeling, as though she was deprived of someone. Like a life. Like a good life.

Draco had seen that expression mirrored far too much in his mother's eyes. He couldn't fathom looking back into her pupils again. The expression was simply too familiar.

* * *

He didn't tell Hermione about the brief bit of information he heard, because he didn't want to dampen her mood. Something she had needed to do for ages had finally come to be, and the girl was walking on air the rest of the day after she signed the divorce papers. The woman was single now, free, and she couldn't be more excited.

Then again, Draco also failed to mention that he technically hit Seamus while wandering around the Ministry. He couldn't help it really, not after knowing that the prat helped Brown help Ron. He still didn't really know the true motive of Seamus helping, but he doubted he ever would at this point. It just felt nice to attack the man- after all, he very well knew that Finnegan had a thing for Hermione.

And at this point, that just wouldn't do.

Hermione however, danced around his room oddly enough, even going as far as to jump on his bed. It was a bit surprising, but Draco didn't argue. He only gripped her arm, laughing when the woman fell on top of him.

"See what you do," he grunted, feigning hurt. From her position on top of him, she smacked his shoulder.

"Quit it!" She let out another laugh as he rolled them over, pinning her to the mattress now. "You're no fun!"

"I'm no fun?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow. "Whatever gave you that idea?"

She huffed from beneath him. "Yu ruined my jumping!"

"I ruined your jumping?" he mocked, laughing when she attempted to slip out from under him. The wiggling awoke parts of his anatomy that had been quite lively lately though, and he almost regretted pinning her for fun.

Hermione seemed to notice too, and stopped, peering up into his eyes. She obviously noticed the affect she was having when he tensed up.

"Or maybe I'm ruining your fun?" she asked, peering up at him.

"Maybe," he grunted, glancing away from her. She got divorced that morning, and he wasn't quite sure she would appreciate him pouncing upon her, even after everything.

The tie he wore that day suddenly became something to use against him, and the woman hooked her hand around the piece of fabric, pulling his face closer to her. "Well, maybe I should help instead."

He could immediately tell that seduction really wasn't something she was thoroughly familiar with, but he didn't argue when she pulled her further against him, kissing him hard. He responded eagerly, all too happy to comply with her lips. He did want to touch her after all, and he would take kissing this woman over nothing.

Draco waited his turn; he waited until the legal work was cleared and she was safe and free before he did anything. But she was free and single now, and he had no intention of ignoring the woman in his bed now. He didn't need to.

She wanted him it seemed, and he certainly wanted her. He would even go slow, if that's what she wished.

Lost in his need to kiss her, feel her, devour her, Draco forgot about his troubles. For some time as he laid there kissing Hermione, he just let life be. Right now, things were perfect.

And down the hall, simmering to perfection, sat a vile of the salve for Draco. One more coat, and the Dark Mark would disappear. And just maybe, Hermione would use some too.

_~FIN~_

* * *

**A/n: **Okay so before everyone starts saying that this ended abruptly, let me explain. Since I decided to do a sequel, I want to make sure that there's at least a bit to cover. I have no plans to write a long sequel as long as this one, but it has to have at least a bit of content.

You can read this as a stand-alone story or read the sequel, but either way this story is complete. The sequel will be called **"His and Her Scars"** and will hopefully be up in a week or so. That's why this story is a bit short, so that a sequel can have at least some content.

I hope you enjoyed the story. For those of you who follow me onto the second story, I hope you enjoy it too. I'll be posting a chapter when I do post the second story on here, just to let you know. That will only stay for a short time before I paste it on here instead.

Hopefully you enjoyed the story. You might have an opinion about the ending, but since it's my story, this is how I've decided to do things. Let me know what you thought, since this is the final chapter :)


	43. Author's Note

**A/n**: "His and Her Scars" is up now lovelies! This note will remain for a few weeks before I take it and post it to the last chapter of this story, so you have been warned! Go check it out now! :D


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